Falling Slowly
by breathforeverypart
Summary: As a reader of the original novel, fan of the stage production, and the recent 2012 movie, I didn't foresee myself writing a modern AU for my first fanfic. This is the story of Les Amis set in 2013 Paris. Eponine is one of the main narrators atm and she is struggling with years of sexual, emotional and physical abuse.
1. Chapter 1- Moonlight

Falling Slowly: Chapter 1 - Moonlight

The familiar fog tugged at her temple as Eponine struggled to focus on the presentation. Every sound had amplified and panic shortened every breath. Fuck. Her friends' faces swam in front of her, each word taking a few extra seconds to resonate. Time was lost. Memories and emotions distorted her perception.

"Ep?"

Courfrayac's voice was quiet in the midst of her mind's chaos, but she latched onto it and let it drag her to the surface.

"Eponine?"

Opening her eyes she took a quick inventory. Nail marks dotted her hands, legs were folded underneath her, muscles pulled taut, and ah the familiar shaking had returned.

Drawing a breath Eponine ran fingers through her unruly mass of hair. "Fra?"

"What's wrong? You all right? Should I call Joly?"

Blinking Courfrayac's worried face came into focus, ridiculous apple red glasses and all.

Shame snaked through her middle. "I'm fine." Unfolding herself from the desk, Eponine slipped into her bargain coat and rifled through her bag for her phone.

Nervously Courfrayac shifted from one converse clad foot to the other. "Are ya sure?"

His query fell on deaf ears as his friend's hobo bag spilled onto the laminated University classroom floor.

"Damn!" she cried, clenching her hands into fists.

Scrambling over, Courfrayac dropped to his knees. Hearing a sniffle, he noticed Eponine willing tears away by sheer determination and the occasional deep breath.

As she bent to reclaim a rogue tampon, her friend brushed her shoulder.

Flinching Eponine pulled away. "Don't." Her eyes darkened and Courfrayac nodded, retrieving the rest of her belongings that had rolled towards the door.

Fuck. Granted, most of her thoughts weren't G-rated, but this was insane. What time was it? Shit. Looking around the room, Eponine realized that everyone else had left. Dread pushed her to the floor and questions buzzed incessantly.

With his arms full, Courfrayac meandered towards Eponine wary of their last interaction. He paused watching her lips drop into a frown and fingers rub her forehead. In the minute it took to dump her remaining belongings in the frayed bag, Eponine's knees hit the floor in front of him.

"Fra, what happened?"

Maintaining a careful distance, Courfrayac explained that at the end of Enjorlas' presentation, the Les Amis had gathered and decided to head over to the Café Musain. Thankfully the proprietor favored business, as boisterous and chaotic as their gang was, over empty chairs and tables.

Drawing a breath, Fra addressed the floor "The gang left 'bout a Top Gear program ago."

Encouraged by her small smile, he offered his hands. "Shall we darling?"

"But of course ma chere." Eponine replied seductively, until her voice betrayed her with a hitched sob.

Shakily the stubborn 19-year old evaded concerns and subtle prying from her long time ami the entire walk to their usual hangout. Among the apartment buildings the wind pushed and pulled the pair, re-arranging their attire and whipping Eponine's hair into knots.

In all her years with the Thenardiars, crying was never tolerated. If anything it justified more abuse. Why now? Four months, nine days and ten hours. How long before Eponine could safely consider herself a free woman?


	2. Chapter 2 - Wrappers and Bunnies

Chapter 2 – Wrappers & Bunnies

"'Ponine?"

"What?" She snapped, hand on her borrowed knife in her surplus coat pocket.

Instead of a drunken customer, Courfrayac's naïve eyes filled with worry found hers.

"Wanna go in? Have a pint or two?"

"Fine. Gotta call 'Roche first. Save me a seat yeah?" Collapsing on the familiar stone step, she rolled through her contacts until her little brother's face lit up the screen.

"Mon frère, what's up?"

She could hear scuffling and the dull roar of drunken voices fighting a geriatric stereo for control.

"Nothing 'Ponine." He trilled, breaking in to a cough that barely covered a cry of "Shut it, you arse!"

Rolling her eyes, Eponine let her arm fall away from her ear, hiked the bag against her shoulder, and ripped the door to the Café open. Putting her years in government housing to use, Eponine assessed the familiar premises. Her eyes skimming over the regular drunks and scared shitless blind date couples at the bar, until she spotted a familiar mop of dirty blond hair among the college students. Mon dieu, would it kill the boy to use a comb?

In six strides, she crossed the room and drummed her fingers against her sibling's matted waves.

Gavroche let his head drop and blinked sheepishly at his sister.

"Aww feck." Courfrayac muttered, fiddling with his plastic frames.

Combfrerre pinched the bridge of his nose and reddened before squaring his shoulders. Ah, the leader of the infamous Les Amis. Oblivious? Yes, that describes Enjolras. Hunched over his laptop, muttering something about a firewall.

"This security….Gav? Reaching a hand behind him, Enjolras froze.

Amused Eponine raised an eyebrow "Oh no, Monsieur. please continue."

With all the grace of the 11th Doctor the leader blanched and withdrew his hand before turning.

"Ah Ep." A flush highlighted Enjolras' cheekbones as he cleared his throat. "Gav said you knew." He mumbled meekly.

"Sure. Trust the 11-year old fil who was suspended last week for picking lockers."

Indignant Gavroche wriggled out of his guardian's hold.

"They deserved it. Feckin' pricks."

"LANGUAGE." Eponine yelled raking a hand through her tangled hair. "Ow, shit."

The poet's hands wrapped around her waist as Jehan laid his head against her neck.

"What colour is that?" She exclaimed, trying to hide her panic, looking down at her friend's latest manicure.

"Mint candy apple and peach sorbet." Releasing her bony frame, Jehan grasped her hand. "Missed you lovebug. Is that a wrapper?" Distractions were commonplace when communicating with the poet and more thoughts were left unfinished than completed.

However in this case, Jehan frowned as he gently untangled a sweets foil and three leaves from her wind-swept-do.

Clucking his tongue the poet led Eponine to a table despite her protests.

"Enough darling. When I'm through, maybe you can plait my locks." He grinned.

Finally she consented after a quick look over at boys most of whom were participating in a 'Chubby Bunny' contest.

Moaning, she thought of the sugar rush she'd have to deal with and collapsed against the back of the chair.

"Marshmallows, marshmallows" Jehan sang quietly running a neon orange comb through his friend's unruly locks. "Know what that means 'Ponine?"

"Ah, I've got a sugar hangover to deal with in the morn'?"

With a wag of his polished finger the poet pointed to Courfrayac "My Energizer bunny is charging for the night."

After a moment they burst out in hysterics, laughing until they nearly fell out of their seats.


	3. Chapter 3 - Escorted

Chapter 3 – Escorted

As most games with the Les Amis do, 'Chubby Bunny' ended in tears, a declaration of revolution, and vomit.

"How was I 'posed to know?" He wailed.

"Cause it always does." Eponine muttered. "Aha!" Straddling Gavroche, she managed to shove a hat on his head and all but button up his coat.

"Say adieu Gav, we gotta go." Shrugging on her own coat, Eponine took a stool next to Jehan.

"And how is our resident sweet-toothed loser?" She smiled.

Groaning, Courfrayac clutched his stomach dramatically. "Shoulda known Gav was hustlin' me when he brought out the Peeps."

"Damn. He's not supposed to have those." Stifling a yawn Eponine kissed Jehan's cheek and Courfrayac's head before another attempt to herd the little bugger.

"Take care of him yeah? She called, lifting a suddenly exhausted Gavroche to his feet.

"Always." Jehan responded. Lifting a finger to Courfrayac's mouth, Jehan rubbed off a trail of pink sugar before leaning in for a kiss.

Even as she stood in the foyer buttoning 'Roche's coat and arguing with him about the merits of mittens, Eponine's mind was else ware. At quarter past eleven, the streets appeared quiet and calm. A few months ago this time of night constituted peak 'business' hours. Closing her eyes, she inhaled sharply hoping to exhale unwelcome memories. Sheer will pushed the nausea away as she fought for control.

"C'mon kid. Time to get home yeah?"

Shrugging Gavroche pushed bangs out of his eyes and yawned. "Combfrerre helped me with my worksheets. Can I watch a show when we get back?"

"Ep?" A voice cut the quiet in the foyer and heavy footsteps made the siblings flinch.

"About to head out Enjolras." Winding a scarf around her neck, she turned to face him.

"Walk you home?"

"Fine." Eyeing him, they began their walk through the maze of impoverished Paris. To her credit, when Enjolras insisted on carrying her bag Eponine did not react like mugging victim. Although she did maintain a firm grip on the knife in her pocket.

"_Good girl Ep, way to act normal."_ She applauded sarcastically.

When Gavroche ran ahead to check the status of a feral cat he 'adopted' Eponine cleared her throat.

"Why are you doing this?"

Enjolras sighed. "Is it possible that I am a gentleman? There are times I am not made of marble."

Snorting, she nodded. "So, you heard about that nickname did you?"

"Your roommate is anything, but subtle. Especially in his near constant state of intoxication."

"Fuck off."_ He doesn't bloody know the half of it. _She thought, storming ahead.

Taking a few long strides, Enjolras caught up with her.

"N-not what I meant 'Ponine."

Christ. Just because this golden haired statue had every one of the Les Amis wrapped around his finger didn't give him the goddamn right to fuck her roommate a few times and treat him like shit in the daylight.

Reaching the dilapidated tenement, she took a deep breath and tossed her set of keys to Gavroche.

"Take this, let 'Taire know we're back, brush your teeth and sort our your bag for tomorrow. Be up in a minute."

Shifting her weight, Eponine drew on all of her height and leaned close to Enjolras.

"Now you. Get off your arse and grow a pair. Either date him or tell him it's over. Figure it out."

"I…I…ah Ep." He stuttered, combing his hair with shaky fingers.

"Got your attention didn't I?" She smirked. In a softer voice she confessed "Look, do you have to a 'right? Just don't…he's been through..."

Fear and hurt flashed across her face like a storm before she shook her head sending Jehan's braid over her shoulder.

"Never mind. G'night Enjy, thanks for the escort."

Closing the main door, Eponine pivoted to face the rickety staircase. Junk wrappers and crap advert papers littered the hall.

_Just shut it Ep, there's no use opening old wounds. You put on enough of a show tonight at uni. _

A dorm slammed somewhere above her and argumentative voices mingled with late night programs.

_His voice. _

Four more steps.

_Breath, stale and sour. _

Five doors down. One, two…

_Who knew how many? Man after man in the shoddy apartment._

On the left.

_All she ever tasted. Choking, choking, choking._

_Only ever be a whore._

Grantaire

_Grantiare _

Grantaire


	4. Chapter 4 - Aftershocks

Chapter 4 – Aftershocks

"'Taire!"

The end of Gavroche's muffled shout reached Grantaire in a brief rest between songs.

"Petit homme!" By way of greeting the artist took his charcoal smeared hands and pressed them against the boy's cheeks. "Where's you sister?" He asked, removing his headphones.

"Talking to Enjolras" He answered innocently. Dumping the contents of his school sack on the worn wood, Gavroche tossed through the pile of rubbish, books and dog-eared papers.

Grantaire swallowed thickly. Even his instincts were conflicted. His heart hammered and thoughts tripped over themselves trying to be heard in the cacophony.

_What was he doing here? _

_Fuck. Could use a shower. _

'_Ponine's gonna kill him. _

_Turpentine isn't sexy. _

_What's wrong with me?_

_No more. Not after last time. _

"Enough." He whispered to himself and shifted his attention to the boy. "Shit. 'Roche, what are you doing? Christ, it's way past your bedtime."

Scrunching up his nose the boy stood up. "You're not 'Ponine."

Crossing his arms Grantaire sighed. "Half a program of Doctor Who on the couch and one of Cosette's cookies IF you manage to brush your teeth and change in the next 5 minutes."

After a pause, Gavroche spit in his hand and offered it to Grantaire. "Deal."

"Off with you" he grinned "Oy, finish with your school crap! If 'Ponine trips over it we're both dead."

Le petit homme dutifully crammed papers and books into his dilapidated sack and Grantaire rummaged through the fridge. After settling on cereal (without milk, since a taste test proved it to be spoiled), a strange scratching drew his attention to the door.

Though he gave a halfhearted attempt to ignore it, Grantaire had developed a soft spot for the neighborhood brothel's cat. Every few days, the poor animal wandered the neighborhood looking for a scrap or two.

"Come on then." He relented, undoing the puzzle of locks.

The door opened and Grantaire found himself on his knees. "E-Eponine?"

Every inch of her was shaking. Her eyes were dark and leaked tears.

"I promise…please stop." She mumbled, wringing her hands.

Rubbing his forehead, Grantaire slowly reached for her.

This was their dance. Most people around their age were students. Happily living off of their _bourgeoisie_ parents' money. Partying whenever they wanted. They had custody of an 11-year old kid. They barely made rent every month. They dealt with nightmares of past lives that they could never really awaken from.

"Ep, please. It's me. Grantaire." With all the grace of using a calligraphy pen, he lifted her chin. Although she jumped away Grantaire continued "You are safe 'Ponine. I promise. We are safe now."

A shake of her head was barely discernable among the spasms that made her vibrate.

"Grantraire. 'Taire I don't wanna do this anymore. Please."

"I know Ep. I know. Here." He offered, leaning forward to gather her in his arms.

Hushed voices rose in volume as Eponine absently stretched. The peace she felt quickly turned to panic as she bolted upright. The mattress under her was uncovered and she was tangled in an old quilt pinched from a street fair last summer. Grantaire's room. Fingering dried paint on the floor, Eponine attempted to piece together the last few minutes or hours? Damn.

A quick search of her person revealed her phone, which informed her that it was a quarter after midnight. There were 2 texts from Courfrayac, both cryptic. Her head was spinning and Cosette in all of her psychology major wisdom would say that she was probably still dissociating. The blonde with her large doe eyes would also touch her arm and tell her to process everything. Ugh. Yanking on a pair of her roommate's socks Eponine pulled on the loose knob and stood in the doorway.

"'Ponine!" a little voice cried, followed by the sound of bare feet running towards her.

"Hey baby." She smiled, pulling her sibling into a hug. "What are you doing up?"

"Worried 'bout you." He frowned.

"No need to worry bug, I'm fine." Forcing a laugh she released him to do a quick turn. "See?"

Shaking his head, Gavroche looked at his sister. "You looked like Mom, and you couldn't talk right."

Biting her lip, Eponine caught Grantaire's eye across the room.

Shifting her attention back to the boy, she knelt down. "Tell you what, why don't you take Quincy tonight? I think he's getting tired of me."

"Alright." He nodded slowly.

"Night Grantaire, night 'Ponine." The boy yawned, dragging a bedraggled old teddy bear off to his corner of the room he usually shared with his sister.

"Love you 'Roche, good night."

"Night petit homme" Grantaire echoed softly.

Once the shoddy door shut Eponine folded her arms and moved to the kitchen where Grantaire was dumping the remnants of a cookie into the trash.

"You know, I thought you were are a cat with all of that scratching."

Quickly Eponine examined her arms before turning to her closest friend.

"Did I…I hurt you?"

"No, no." Replacing the lid, he wiped his hands on his shirt. "You scratched at the front door, and I thought you were the ladies' cat."

Laughing, she tried to pull at her ponytail surprised to find her hair neatly plaited with hints of crushed flowers along its' length.

"Shit. What happened?" As she undid the braid, Grantaire added his story to the clues Eponine had gathered. Her neatly braided hair. The texts from Courfrayac.

"Shouldn't this only happen with hangovers…you know after some fun was had?" She exhaled settling against Grantaire on the sofa.

"We'll get there Ep." He sighed, nibbling on a pen cap. "What's the last thing you remember before the Courfrayac-classroom-incident?"

_He walked in. Enjolras' presentation was about the aid trip he and Les Amis had been organizing. They needed funding for supplies and were appealing to the University for sponsors. He was there. Montparnasse. How long had it been? _

"Ep?"

_His twisted grin in the ill lighting. Leaning over her, Eponine felt his erection through the grimy fabric. His hands were vices and pinned her beneath him again. _

"Breath love. Please, Eponine."

_Her body betrayed her. His breath hot and thick, against her ear. "Now I know how much you love our time together." With a laugh, he spilled out in her hair and face. _

Gagging. Cool hands brushed her neck. The stench of bleach and urine filled her nose and the dingy bathroom spun around her.

"Welcome back." Grantaire said motherly. In low tones, he started to hum.

Closing her eyes, Eponine leaned against the ancient tub and fought to breath normally. After a flush, she felt Grantaire's body beside her. As the minutes passed, Eponine slipped her hand into his, and he let his head rest against her shoulder.

Eventually Eponine's breathing evened and Grantaire carried her to his mattress. Gavroche didn't need to witness the aftershocks of his sister's flashbacks.

He thanked God that at the time, the boy didn't understand who and what Thenardiar sold in the backrooms of 'The Family Inn". As a foster kid, Grantaire was told that he needed to contribute, since the allotment that came monthly from the state was not enough. He settled on the mattress, keeping himself as close to 'Ponine as possible without touching her.

Survival. It was why he worked three shit jobs. He made a promise. It was easier than caring. Who had time for frivolities like consistently hot water and God forbid lust?

Even so. As he fell asleep, the glow of Grantaire's phone betrayed a vice. His thumb settled on a text and an index finger traced the letters of a man's name.


	5. Chapter 5 - Bathroom Confessional

Chapter 5 – Bathroom Confessional

Just five blocks away, Courfrayac lay curled against the base of the toilet cursing the manufacturers of marshmallows.

"Fucking Peeps" He moaned, feeling the sweets bubble up his throat. As the flushing ebbed away, Courfrayac heard the door creak open.

"Pink!" He exclaimed weakly. "Of all the shit colours Jehan." Smiling he let his head fall against the wall.

"I'll have you know these are magenta darling." Wagging a finger, he ran a washcloth under cool water. "Here" Kneeling over him Jehan swept his hair aside and held the cloth against his brow.

"Bless you" Courfrayac sighed. "From your pink dressing robe to your fuzzy slippers."

The tile rattled under Jehan's foot and he withdrew his boyfriend's phone from beneath the slipper. "Hmm." He frowned.

"What is it?" Courfrayac murmured into Jehan's neck, clearly seeking comfort.

"Two texts from Grantaire and one from Enjolras."

"Whadda they say?" He answered, eyes nearly closed.

Blushing Jehan placed the phone in the Courfrayac's lap. "It's not my business love, 'tis your phone."

"Always a gentleman." He retorted. "Let's see here…"

Absently Jehan played with Courfrayac's hair. "Is everything alright?"

"Eponine." The lovers reached for each other and stood.

"Should I make coffee or tea?" Jehan asked, knotting the tie of his robe around his waist.

"Ah. Ale?" Courfrayac asked hopefully.

"Black tea for you." The poet decided, flicking on a burner. "Tell me." Leaning against the counter, Jehan waiting for Courfrayac to take the stool opposite him.

"Well, tonight everyone went to Enjolras' presentation at Albert Hall. Something spooked her. I can't tell you what did it. After it ended, everyone clapped and started to leave." Raising his hands and voice Courfrayac continued. "She didn't. Her legs were pulled up underneath the desk, and her hands were cupped 'round her ears."

Supporting his head with a hand, his voice cracked. "No matter how many times I called her name, she didn't respond or couldn't. Dunno."

The kettle whistled and Jehan listened as Courfrayac recounted helping Eponine clean up her upturned bag and the walk to the Café.

Playing with the tea bag, Courfrayac waited for his boyfriend to process what he'd said.

"Love, I noted her strange behavior earlier. Although I attributed it to Gavroche joining us so late."

Adding honey Jehan chewed his lip thoughtfully. "She also flinched when I hugged her, then again when I detangled and braided her hair."

"Then there's the matter of this." Courfrayac sighed, scrolling through his phone to find the text from Grantaire."

"Ep had a breakdown. What happened tonight?" Jehan read aloud. As he read along he quieted and his eyes grew wide.

"Has this happened before?" The poet asked brow knitted in concern.

"You know Grantaire, he's the duo's watchdog. I knew him in grade school, but it wasn't as if we were all that close. Won't say much about their past. She does the same thing. They moved here last year." Courfrayac shrugged.

"It probably was not ideal if they have custody of Gavroche." Jehan mused.

A new text vibrated on the counter and Courfrayac pounced. "Damn." He smiled scrolling though the conversation.

"What?" Jehan asked before taking a sip of his Sleepy-time lavender tea.

Laughing Courfrayac summarized. "Our little soldier verbally kicked Enjolras' arse on their walk back to Skid Row."

"You're jesting!" The poet choked.

"Nope. Evidently she gave his an ultimatum about Grantaire. And our pretty boy is still clueless."

"Not after this evening." The poet grinned coyly.

"I'd know your scheming face anywhere." Licking the spoon, Courfrayac lightly tapped Jehan's nose. "What are you planning?"

"Don't you think the poet should lend a hand to Cupid?"

Groaning Courfrayac removed his glasses. "Are we really going to meddle in their love life? ENJOLRAS' no less?"

"Come now" He enticed playfully leaning against the counter. "We'll discuss it tomorrow."

Looping a finger in the neckline of Jehan's shirt, Courfrayac kissed him.

"Fine. But I'm not talking to Monsieur Marble about _his _marble."

The word on the page began to move and Enjolras blinked. He'd only been at this for…what was the time? Quarter after 3 AM. Oh. Pinching the bridge of his nose he exhaled and switched off the desk lamp. Combeferre would kill him if he knew. Luckily he was sound asleep in the other bedroom.

For the hundredth time that evening, Enjolras dissected the events after he and Eponine left Café Musain. How had he put it to Courfrayac? Ah, he "got his arse verbally kicked" by the dark haired beauty.

There weren't many things that scared him. He had publicly questioned the campus' board of directors last spring in regards to sexual assault policies on campus and campaigned for equal marriage rights in dangerous conservative neighborhoods.

Grantaire. The cynic. If it were possible to turn back the clock until they were strangers Enjolras did not know what he would chose. Surely, if they were strangers he would be more focused and driven.

He would not see a couple sitting in the park and wish it were him and 'Taire.

He wouldn't have an apple for lunch and remember the time Grantaire sketched him eating lunch one afternoon while he was pouring over notes.

He would not watch Jehan and Courfrayac kiss on film nights and have his fingers itch for Grantaire's hand.

Yet here he was. Lying in bed, emotion thick in his throat Enjolras tried to keep up with his thoughts.

What did he want? That was the question Combeferre had asked. Like most of their conversations, Combeferre had cut through his bullshit and accessed the heart of the matter.

Silence had fallen over the pair, and Combeferre clamped a hand on his roommate's shoulder before retiring for the evening. After all he had his internship at "the arse-crack of dawn" as they called it.

Grantaire. He wanted Grantaire. Yes. It was so simple. The love that he had always held for Patria, for his city and country extended to 'Taire. Every speech improved by leaps and bounds when he attended a meeting. Enjolras' debate skills were never sharper then when Grantaire played devil's advocate. He occupied his every thought and when they were apart it felt as though a limb was missing.

That happened didn't it? Phantom limb syndrome, Joly had mentioned it. Enjolras folded in half and reached into the empty space. The nothingness haunted and ache filled him until the loneliness was too great.

Unlocking his phone, Enjolras typed out a message to a man that he would never send and read the lines over and over until at least he fell into an uneasy slumber.


	6. Chapter 6 - Surplus

Chapter 6 – Surplus

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck." Followed by a crash and more cursing.

"Whassamattar" Grantaire asked groggily, one hand on the hammer he kept by the mattress.

Rubbing his face, he forced his eyes open in the bright room. Part of his next paycheck was going towards curtains even he had to skip a few meals because of the purchase.

"We're late!" Eponine screeched before rushing from the room.

"Ah bollocks." Grantaire muttered donning a hooded jumper.

Eponine's voice rose another octave from kitchen. Stepping into a partially clean pair of jeans Grantaire joined the fray.

Without making eye contact, she tossed him a lump of tinfoil. "Put this in 'Roche's pack will ya?"

Flipping her head forward Eponine hurriedly tamed her hair into a bun. "Buddy we've got 3 minutes!" She yelled, running towards the bathroom.

"I can't find pants!" Gavroche wailed, stumbling into the living room with a shoe in hand and its' mate untied barely secured on his other foot.

"Shit. The laundry."

Grantaire stood from the couch to see his roommate leaning her back against the sink with hands against either side of her skull. She was murmuring about the laundry, as if by squeezing her temple fresh clothes would appear.

"'Kay petit homme. Com'ere." Quickly Grantaire tied the boy's laces in artistic knots and told him upturn the hamper, pick a dirty pair and bring it to him.

"Ep, you aren't superwoman. I'll get Gav to school. When do you work today?"

"Half an hour." She exclaimed, after a glance at her phone. "Are you sure? If he's late again they'll ask to meet with us."

Rolling his eyes Grantaire leaned towards Eponine to plant a kiss on the top of her head.

"God knows we need to avoid that." Laughing he pushed her towards the shower.

"Get clean, and I'll meet up with you later."

Closing the bathroom door Grantaire headed into the room (which was a generous term) the siblings shared. Gavroche was kneeling in a huge pile of dirty laundry.

"Alright, let's do the sniff-test. What are your top two choices?" He asked, watching the boy pause before choosing a pair of faded khakis and dirt-stained denim.

"Which smells cleaner buddy?" Grantaire leaned in to sniff with Gavroche and immediately the denim pants were tossed aside.

"What the hell did you do in those?!" He spat, backing up a few steps.

Sheepishly Gav fastened the khakis "Ah, Thomas and I got in the dump last week. We were scavenging!"

"Next time, strip at the door. You hear?" He lectured, spraying Gavroche's bottom half with air freshener he'd borrowed from the bathroom at work last week.

"Fuck, we gotta run." Grantiare muttered, slugging the boy's pack on to his own shoulder. Tugging on a hat and coat, Gavroche waited for his role model to unlock the door and flick off the finicky florescent light.

A veteran childcare provider would have noticed how the boy's school bag bulged and nearly burst through the zipper. In the haste and chaos of the morning, breakfast, a failed project, and a hidden object slipped through the cracks. Here's what Gavroche would say about cracks. They tend to expand with time, swallowing more and more until finally the cracks are too big to be ignored.

The front door slammed just as Eponine applied the worn razor to her leg.

"Motherf-" She hissed watching the water wash away her mistake. Quickly she finished shaving as carefully as she could.

Avoiding the mirror Eponine wrapped a towel around herself and began untangling her hair. As her fingers weaved her damp locks into a relaxed French braid, her mind wandered.

_Failure. You let Grantaire fix your mistake. You're going to owe him. Worthless piece of shit. Gav doesn't deserve this. _

Angry at this pity party, Eponine tied off her braid and finished drying herself with the crusty towel.

_Just another day. Work at 'Chetta's. Pick up Gavroche. Lug laundry and the little bug to Courfrayac and Jehan's apartment to borrow their washer and dryer. Grantaire should be able to bring back some dinner scraps Chez Catherine. Christ. _

_Enough. Forget about him. _

Biting her lip Eponine pushed the thought of Montparnasse away. She could not afford another distraction or breakdown.

16 minutes later she yanked on the backdoor of the Café. It wouldn't budge. Fed up, Eponine kicked it a few times until she heard grumbling and felt someone tugging the door from the kitchen.

"Remy! Am I early? Shouldn't you be in bed?" She teased, ditching her coat and donning an apron.

"Oui, oui. Was on me way out when I heard your battle with the door." The baker retorted. With a wink he yanked the stubborn door behind him.

Smoothing her apron over her stomach Eponine appraised Remy's inventory. Evidently he'd been inspired by pommes. Apple flavored breads; pastries, pies and muffins littered the counters.

"Ah, now you've seen the pomme explosion oui?" Musichetta laughed watching Eponine's reaction.

"Morning 'Chetta." She yawned. "Remy went a bit overboard this time."

Shrugging Musichetta selected a miniature muffin and popped it in her mouth.

"At least these sell." Swallowing she licked her fingers and continued. "Remember when he tried carrot and squash recipes in the fall?"

Eponine nodded and involuntarily shuddered. Autumn had left the trio broke after buying school supplies for Gav and paying off the electric bill. Since Remy's experiments didn't sell, Musichetta insisted she take them home. Gavroche swore off the aforementioned vegetables as soon as they were able to afford food again.

"Mmmm. Eponine you have to try one. There's caramel. Seriously, it's like an orgasm…with apple." She sighed happily and handed her employee a mini muffin.

Before she could politely refuse the charity, Eponine's stomach growled. "Sure." She blushed, biting in to the tiny treat.

"Yum." She nodded, wiping her mouth with her thumb.

"Right?!" 'Chetta confirmed. "Joly and Bossuet are going to LOVE these."

"Be mindful of crumbs getting in the bed 'Chetta. Joly'll have a panic attack." She teased.

Laughing Musichetta agreed. "And Bossuet will probably choke or something. It's always something with my boys."

The two young women emerged from the kitchen and proceeded to open the bakery and café for the day.

The conversation was easy, and Eponine often imagined Musichetta to be her older sister. Joly volunteered at an emergency center a couple years ago and often saw Grantaire and Eponine herding their foster siblings around the waiting room once a month for free exams and hygiene kit handouts. Grantaire and Joly began hanging out and the rest as they say is history. Musichetta took to Eponine immediately and offered her a part time job waiting tables at her café after school.

"Why don't you start on Remy's dishes and I'll take care of the regulars, all right?"

Musichetta gestured towards the kitchen as she organized the menus behind the counter.

Once Joly started at university and interning at the local hospital he could nick 'surplus' supplies for his friends. Grantaire and he were quite close, but it was not until Halloween her junior year in secondary school that she learned she could trust Joly.

With her arms submerged in soapy water, Eponine let herself remember that Halloween night.

_Grantaire double-checked the pantry door gently testing the knob. _

"_Stay quiet until 'Ponine or I use the knock." He whispered. Grabbing Eponine's hand he steered them to the usual room. Gordon, Leslie, Claudette, and Anne Marie along with the others were already kneeling in front of paying customers. _

"_Shit." Eponine muttered under her breath. With a final squeeze of her hand Grantaire slipped into the line next to Gordon and left her next to Leslie. _

_Man after man yanked at her growing breasts, lifted her skirt and appraised her body. Anything short of penetration was acceptable. Papa only drew the line there so he could earn more money. _

_One by one they were chosen and Maman escorted matched pair to a dingy room. As Grantaire walked by he winked, earning a smack from Papa. _

_Just when Eponine thought she could breath and would have the first round of the evening off, he walked in. _

_She caught snippets of the conversation between this new man and her father. _

"…_paying…something younger. Whore's too old." _

"_50 more francs and you'll break her in." Papa answered quickly, determined not to lose this patron. _

_Dread filled her stomach and Eponine began to pray, a practice she had fallen out of years ago. _

"_Robine! Get Azelma. Now!" Her keeper roared. _

_Closing her eyes Eponine felt her heart constrict along with her hands. No, no , no. Not Azelma. Not her sister. Please stay quiet please please please. Don't make a sound she willed the little ones. _

_What seemed like a century passed until she heard her mother's familiar voice wound with disappointment and anger. She appeared dragging Azelma by her hair. Following her were the children, those too young or 'ugly' to be sold yet. _

_A sob caught in her throat as Eponine fought to stay in control of her actions. _

_Vaguely she was aware of Papa counting money and the man grabbing Azelma by the arm. Then she was tearing him aware from her. Using her body, Eponine did her best to block 'Zelma from the blows. _

"_Please! Please listen." She screamed, no longer trying to shield her face. "I'll do whatever you want. Anything. Just don't touch her." She begged. Vomit itched its way up her throat as she laid a hand on his chest. _

_Nodding, her Papa allowed it. He would get his money in the end it didn't matter what whore was chosen. _

"_Go get ready." Father barked, shoving her onto the mattress in the room across the hall. _

_Once she lifted herself off the mattress and realized she saved Azelma, a familiar chill crept up her neck. _

"_No." She breathed, backing against the wall. _

_Four pairs of eyes found hers. The Patron-Minette. There was no way out. She knew what was coming. _

"_Well 'Ponine. Meet Montparnasse. My new runner. He's here on a trial basis." _

_The new man oozed filth and as her eyes scanned his paunchy frame she noted a bulge in his pants. _

"_Please don't…I'll be good." Six was nothing in a night. She had become used to more than ten. Yet, this wasn't regular business hours. _

"_You didn't think you'd get away with that stunt did you bitch? Little shit. You'll pay for that bitch." Her dear Papa spat, stepping towards her with his metal clipboard. _

_Her body regained consciousness before her brain. Her body was on fire. That could be the only logical explanation for this pain. This white-hot agony that tore through he pelvis and anus in even rhythms. One of them slapped face and forced her mouth open to receive him. Gagging, Eponine arched her back and instinctively fought against the intrusion. _

_Another entry between her legs caused her to kick out until finally her father's fist knocked against her skull. Finally the welcomed darkness came over her mind, disconnecting her brain from her broken body. _

"Eponine? Ma chou-chou, come back to me." Musichetta called.

"'Chetta?" Eponine's voice was small and childlike.

Her boss and friend visibly relaxed and managed a wobbly smile.

The younger brunette brushed hair out of her eyes.

"Look at me, love. It's all right. " Musichetta asked.

Drawing a shaky breath, Eponine lifted her gaze. Lifting her arms, she reached for Musichetta and carefully collapsed against her friend.

They sat like that, Eponine alternating between hyperventilating and dissociating and Musichetta murmuring words of comfort and grounding for almost an hour. The tile beneath them soapy and wet. Above their heads, the tap dripped into the now empty double industrial sink.

As Eponine's breathing evened out, Musichetta scanned the soppy mess. Pans and measuring cups surrounded the ladies and flooded the counters attached to the sink above them. The late breakfast crowd and early lunch rush would be here in less than two hours.

Shifting Eponine towards her lap, Musichetta texted her lovers. A few moments passed before her phone lit up, affirming that Bossuet and Joly would leave shortly, after a quick bathe. Grinning, Musichetta felt her face flush. Sighing pleasantly she stroked Eponine's braid, tucking loose strands back in to place.


	7. Chapter 7 - Coffee

Chapter 7 – Coffee

Lathering Bossuet's back, Joly interrogated his lover.

"How exactly did you manage to bruise your shoulder blade?" He twittered, gently fingering the dark purple splotch.

Hanging his head Bossuet addressed the water.

"Told you, I managed to catch my foot on the fan cord as I was watering Musichetta's plants. I didn't want them to tip over, so I went to catch the aloe cutting and…"

"You fell." Joly finished, pressing a kiss against his neck.

Sighing Bossuet leaned into Joly.

"Do we have to leave?" He whined.

"Yes" The med student affirmed, rinsing his boyfriend's back and exiting the tub. "Musichetta needs our help at the shop, and since I am pulling a double tonight at the hospital and you don't have class for a couple hours we are going."

Nodding Bossuet lifted a leg over the lip of the bath and found himself heading towards the tile.

"Can't leave you alone for minute!" Joly exclaimed, heaving Bossuet to his feet. "Did you twist anything?"

Shaking his head, Bossuet began to rub himself dry. "Remember when Courfrayac started that bet about how long I could go without injury?"

Laughing Joly nodded and opened the bathroom door.

"That lasted less then a day right?" He called, ditching the towel on the floor of their bedroom.

"Oui." Bossuet confirmed, adding a bit of product to his hair before leaving the bathroom. "Can I borrow your maroon jumper? The one 'Chetta gave you last Christmas?" He asked, scratching his ear as he meandered in to the threesome's room.

"Joly?" He sang, dressing his lower half. Turning he noticed Joly sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the phone in stony silence. "Honey what's wrong?" He asked gently.

Biting his lip, Joly explained barely containing his anger. "Musichetta wants my first aid kit. After Remy's accident last month they ran out of butterfly bandages."

Bossuet paled as he gripped Joly's shoulder. "No, it's not her. Apparently the sink overflowed and when the ladies were collecting the dirty dishes Eponine was cut."

"Allons-y" Bossuet stood and went in search of shoes. Keeping his face stony, Bossuet didn't trust his voice. Worry consumed his chest as he knew Eponine's days-without-injury-record were far fewer than his.

Joly chose not to speak and set his jaw in a determined matter. With practiced care he packed his messenger bag with supplies borrowed from their well-stocked medicine cabinet.

_It's different. She is safe. They both are. _

Swallowing Joly remembered Grantaire's panicked face well after midnight a couple Halloweens ago. He'd never seen Grantaire so out of control, curls wild, eyes red and voice overcome with fear.

"Ready babe?" Bossuet called.

"Oui." He answered, fastening his pack.

"What's one more scar?" Eponine laughed bitterly.

Adding another rag to the wound Musichetta slowly bent her friend's elbow above her heart.

"Keep pressure on it love, I'll be back in a moment."

"Go make sure Felix doesn't have a conniption with the register." A grimace flickered across her features as she attempted to wave her boss away.

The door swung open again and Eponine sighed. "Does Felix need help with orders?"

"Try again." A serious voice answered.

"Joly." Defeated, she surrendered her arm. "I told Musichetta not to call you. I'm fine. You should be sleeping before your double shifts."

"Let me see." He frowned, lifting the dishtowels that were pressed to the inside of her forearm. "Ep, how did this happen? I expect accidents from Bossuet, but you usually land on your feet."

"Lately my feline powers have been on the fritz." She winced as he probed the cut.

"Sorry darling."

"We both know it's been worse."

Pursing his lips, the medical student nodded curtly. "A couple butterfly bandages should do it…since I assume you'll refuse going to the clinic?"

Eponine raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, yeah, quick and dirty. I know." He returned swabbing his friend's wound with anti-bacterial cream.

A few minutes later Joly had Eponine's forearm wrapped in gauze and an elastic bandage then fastened the whole thing with metal closures.

"You're a professional mon ami." She teased, touching his wrist. "Merci beaucoup." Eponine whispered.

Joly's words were lodged in his throat and all he could do was nod.

After a moment Eponine drew him in to a one-armed embrace before smoothing her apron and entering the café to continue her shift, leaving him alone with the bloody towels.

Lost in his thoughts, Joly gathered the stained towels and rummaged around the cleaning supplies.

A text vibrated and he extracted his phone from his back pocket.

Coffee in 20?

Without hesitation Joly answered and waited for Grantaire to message him a location. As much as he loved his les Amis family, his friendship with Grantaire was unique. They'd wandered in and out of each other's lives for years and been through a fair amount of shit together.

Meet me at the market by Uni?

Until then, Joly joined his lovers and Eponine in mopping and sweeping up the kitchen. Joly wriggled his nose and fought a sneeze in the charcoal dust that surrounded the table Grantaire had temporarily taken over.

"How much for a drawing?"

A quiet snoring answered Joly. His longest ami slumped in a plastic chair with his legs propped up on a table and arms crossed over his chest.

"Ahem!" He coughed a few inches away from Grantaire's ear.

Startled the artist whipped of his shades and squinted.

"Joly!" He yawned stretching his limbs. "When'd you get here?"

"Now." He shrugged. "Should I have let you sleep?"

For a second Grantaire began to shake his head before rubbing his hands over his face.

"Let's say last night was unusually challenging."

"Is Gav still having accidents at night? I can get some rubber sheets from the pediatric ward."

"Thanks" He answered. "But it was 'Ponine."

"She seemed off when I patched her up." He agreed.

Puzzled, Grantaire was quiet for a moment before he leaned forward aggressively. "What happened?" He growled.

If Joly had not known his friend, he would have taken his words as threatening.

"Accident at work, she cut her arm when she tried to clean up a shattered ceramic bowl. Ep's fine, I cleaned and bandaged the wound and she's back to work."

"I don't know what's with her lately." Grantaire's voice was disconnected and he seemed to stare through Joly.

Joly fought an impulse to talk to Grantaire about Eponine's past, their past. Their time with the Thenardiars' had traumatized his friends in ways he couldn't imagine. He had become grateful for his courses that explored PTSD and psychological coping mechanisms.

A couple months ago, Joly had burst into Café Musain and cornered Grantiare (his first mistake). He had word-vomited facts and figures about PTSD and human trafficking survivors until he ran out of breath (his second even bigger mistake).

Grantaire rarely raised his voice, but that night he spun Joly around and pinned him against the wall. "_Don't ever mention that again." _Joly's skin had burned and his friend's words reverberated in his ears for days.

"Coffee? The cart around the corner serves the best espresso around here." The scrapping of Grantaire's chair snapped Joly out of his head.

"Sure mon ami." Grantaire may be oblivious, but Joly knew the conversation was far from over. He'd just have to figure out another way in to the cynic's mind.

With Felix busing tables, Musichetta acting as waitress and Bossuet graciously doing battle with the kitchen, Eponine was left to tend to the register.

After ringing up the lunch rush she gingerly rotated her injured arm. It throbbed a bit, but given the size of the bowl she dropped it could have been a lot worse. Her mistake she thought, and another wave of depression and shame rolled over her.

Glancing at the large coffee placed in from of her, Eponine automatically uttered "2.50 si vous plait."

"No lecture today?"

The voice made her stomach drop and Eponine froze like a deer in the headlamps of a lorry.


	8. Chapter 8 - Quincy

**Chapter 8 – Quincy**

"N-no." She stammered. "How about an apple almond turnover?"

"No, thank you. Just the coffee, and a moment of your time?"

Hesitating Eponine caught Musichetta's eye. "I can't. My break's been used already."

"Two minutes." He bargained, reluctantly moving to the side to satisfy the growing line behind him.

"Have a nice day Monsieur." She smiled, slamming the cash drawer closed a little harder then she meant to.

"Please"

Eponine turned to see Enjolras with his jaw set. "What did you say?"

"You heard me." He glared.

"One more time." Eponine crossed her arms and backed away from the counter to let Musichetta take over the register.

Enjolras' eyes flashed with anger and perhaps something that resembled respect. "Please." He asked again.

"Two minutes 'Chetta?" She asked.

"Sure." She answered, looking between Enjolras and Eponine.

Eponine led them to a table in the back of the Café and waited until he sat down to join him.

Enjolras fiddled with the tin pitcher of flowers and eyed the table.

"Look." He started "Last night was ah – shocking. I-I didn't know Grantaire was so open about um."

As Enjolras stumbled over his words Eponine took pity on the man. His marble exterior had cracked and beneath it laid a person, with emotions and everything. Perhaps he had a heart too if they were lucky.

"About that." Eponine cut in. "Maybe I shouldn't have-"

"Well" Enjolras tried to continue.

Both young adults eyed each other and Eponine leaned away from the table.

"The revolutionary and the hood rat." She mused. "Backing down and apologizing isn't a strong suit of ours is it?"

Smirking Enjolras nodded. "Usually speaking comes naturally, but honestly you scare the shit out of me."

"I tend to have that effect on people." Eponine smiled sweetly.

"The truth is that I care about Grantaire. A lot." He sighed and avoided her eye. "You were right the other night. I do need to get off of my er-arse." His cheeks reddened.

Bringing a hand to his chin Enjolras raised an eyebrow "Am I winning you over yet?"

Ah. Brutal honesty. Eponine worked to suppress a smile. "You're getting there."

Musichetta padded over with a plate of apple streusel bar cookies and mouthed "You okay?" to Eponine through a curtain of curly hair.

She signed, "okay" as Musichetta set the plate of baked goods in the middle of the table. After exchanging pleasantries with Enjolras, she hurriedly returned to the counter where a small line had formed and Felix was anxiously wringing his hands.

"So, do I have to give you the don't-fuck-with-my-brother-or-I'll-kill-you-and-sh ove-your-balls-up-your-arse speech?" Eponine asked choosing a cookie from the pile.

Raising an eyebrow Enjolras answered "Do you read want to go there?"

"I am shocked. Did Enjolras, the famed marble virgin make a sexual innuendo?"

"There is a lot you have to learn about me darling." He purred. "God, how do guys flirt with girls, I can barely flirt with my gender."

Bursting out in a fit of laughter Eponine tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"For an oblivious leader of the people who screws my roommate, I kind of like you."

"Thanks, I think?" Enjolras smiled.

"Don't leave okay?" Her eyes darkened and Enjolras could almost swear a storm was brewing behind them. "We, ah, Gav, Grantaire and I. The past is the past, but it haunts us. We've done a lot that we are not proud of, but…we had to. To survive. Look, I know I'm rambling. The point is, if you aren't going to stick around through all of his shit, then cut ties now and leave him alone."

Enjolras put his elbows on the table and bent his head forward to grasp the back of his neck.

Eponine flinched and drew back, expecting to be hit.

"I'm sorry." She breathed, barely aware that her hands had moved to her ribs.

"Eponine. You and Grantaire have undoubtedly heard hundreds of promises over the years and been disappointed even more. My words won't carry weight with you, that much I know. I intend to prove how serious I am about Grantaire, and our future. You and Gavroche…you are his family and I know I'm a stranger in your eyes, but I would like the honor of being your friend." He finished, a bit out of breath.

Every cell in her body wanted to scream "NO" and propel her out of the café and in to the familiar streets of Paris. She had escaped with Grantaire and managed to keep Gavroche in her life. This was as good as it got for her. To ask for more, to think, to wish for anything else was tempting God to shit all over everything they had worked so hard for.

Her tongue felt thick in her mouth and all she could manage was a nod and warped smile.

"Ep!" Musichetta called from the counter. "Eponine, Gav's school is on the phone."

"Fuck" Her heart in her throat, Eponine ran to Musichetta bending over the counter to grab the phone.

"Hello?" She answered breathlessly. "Yes, this is she. I _am _his guardian."

Biting her lip, Musichetta handed slid a pad and pen in her direction.

"Great." She muttered. "Of course, I'll be there as soon as I can. Thank you." She finished, rubbing her forehead.

"Is everything alright 'Ponine?" Enjolras' smooth voice asked.

Jumping up, she turned around to the statue himself with his lips tugged in to a frown.

"Fine. No…well. Actually, I have to get to Gav's school. Evidently he's got in to a fight and they want to talk to his guardian."

"I'll drive. Where's the school?" Enjolras directed, taking her arm.

"What?"

"Let's go. Where's the school?"

"14 blocks west of here, it's near the new dog park by the fancy fuckers apartment complex." With a wave of her hand, Eponine tossed her apron to 'Chetta who caught it and handed Eponine her coat, scarf and keys. Dropping the keys in her bag, she looked at Enjolras with wonder.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm proving it." He said with a shrug as he fished a set of keys out of his pocket.

"God, I hope they don't suspend him again."

"What's that?" Enjolras asked.

"Shit. Sorry, I didn't know I said that aloud." Eponine apologized.

"Well, I am pre-law in case the littlest ami needs representation."

She snorted at that. "Would he be your first case?"

"First real one? Yes. Last fall, Combeferre and Bahorel were arrested at a protest and I managed to talk the guard in to issuing warnings. All as an undergrad."

"Ooh, big talk." She teased.

"Yeah. I nearly pissed myself when the head inspector threatened to call my supervisor." He laughed at the memory, switched the engine off and unlocked the doors. "Do you want me to come with you?" He asked softly.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, Eponine adjusted the grip on her bag and hesitantly nodded.

"Sure. Uh, the last time I had a meeting here Gav ran out of the office and messed with the intercom system. Maybe you could keep an eye on him? H-he looks up to you."

A few minutes later, they were seated outside the Principal's office.

"Calm down." Waiting for a break in her jittering Enjolras attempted to touch her leg.

"Why is he in the nurse's office? What if someone beat him up? Grantaire wanted to teach him how to fight, but I refused." Her leg double-timed it and Enjolras grabbed her shoulders.

She grabbed his wrists reflexively and inhaled sharply.

"Eponine. Take a breath. Everything will be all right. Let's take this one step at a time. And try not to attack Principal Gallet. Yeah?"

"Yeah. Alright." _Get a hold of yourself 'Ponine. Just breath, she thought. _

"Ms. Thenardiar?" A soprano chirped.

"Uh huh." She swallowed gripping the arms of the chair and turning towards the main office.

Before her and Enjolras stood a guilty and clearly fuming Gavroche. The nurse had a hand firmly holding his shoulder. Without consciously deciding to do so, Eponine found herself holding her little brother's chin and twisting his head.

"Fuck-all 'Roche."

His left cheek was puffy and purple-tinged, the beginning of a wicked bruise forming.

"What's under that?" She asked, tenderly fingering the gauze bandage under Gavroche's greasy hair.

"Nothing." He insisted, pulling away from his sister with a stiff lip.

The nurse nodded curtly and released her grip on Gavroche. "You might want to put some ice on his eye when you get home. Principal Gallet should be with you shortly."

"Merci Madame." Eponine thanked, shaking the kindhearted woman's hand.

"Hey there Gav."

"Enjolras?" The uninjured parts of Gavroche's face brightened as Eponine pulled him onto her lap.

"Bahorel is going to be impressed with that eye mon ami."

A murderous look from Eponine told him that was the wrong response. Quickly he searched for a parental sounding amendment to his statement, but a heavyset middle-aged man he assumed to be Monsieur Gallet opened the office door and motioned for them to enter.

"Come on buddy." Eponine heaved as she lifted Gavroche to his feet and pushed him ahead of her.

Once they were seated, Principal Gallet frowned and recounted the incident.

"In light of the violent conflict, we have no choice but to suspend Gavroche and Vincent for the remainder of the week."

"It's Tuesday." Eponine said quietly, feeling her chest tighten.

Nodding in affirmation Monsieur Gallet continued. "Once they return, they will attend morning detentions for the entire month of November. Ms. Thenardiar, I have inform you that if there is another incident this quarter, we will have to inform social services about Gavroche's disciplinary record."

Her face flamed, and Enjolras recognized the signs of an impending meltdown.

"Thank you Principal Gallet. We'll be on our way monsieur. There will be no more trouble, right Gav?" He interjected, rising and affectionately squeezing Gavroche's shoulder.

Eponine fumed and sputtered for most of the way back to the flat.

Gavroche spent the drive buckling and unbuckling his seatbelt.

At a red light, Enjolras stealthily texted Grantaire trying to simultaneously conceal and convey his fear over dealing with the siblings on his own.


	9. Chapter 9 - Smoke and Eggs

**Chapter 9 – Smoke and Eggs**

"Oy, Gav!" Eponine yelped as the door threatened to close on her injured hand.

Quickly she thrust her body between the door and its' frame and kicked up a leg to prop it open.

"Can I help?"

Closing her eyes Eponine counted to cinq before dropping her bag and Gav's pack on the floor and facing the door.

"Enjolras. Thanks for the ride and help at Gavroche's school, but I've got it from here."

"All right then? I could ah help with lunch." He offered lamely.

Grantaire had commanded him to stay with Eponine and her brother until he got there. He was closer to the University though, and midday traffic would be chaotic, even though he would be cycling.

"Lunch? Eponine scoffed. Bending over, she tugged at the zipper on her little brother's backpack. "If I've any luck today, 'Roche's lunch is still in here. And I'm not hungry, Musichetta force-fed me pastries and muffins after the incident in the kitchen. Joly said something about replenishing my blood supply…"

Trailing off, Eponine extracted a grungy stuffed bear that looked as if it'd been through several tours in warzones.

"Damn" She swore, pushing her hair back, Eponine knocked on a door childishly labeled "Keep AWAY" and entered a couple seconds later leaving Enjolras standing awkwardly by the counter.

"Gav?" She called gently, summoning all of her bruised motherly instincts.

He did not answer, but Eponine saw the ratty blanket shuffle around on the mattress.

"May I join you?" She asked, contemplating knocking on the fabricated tent.

The blanket lifted a few inches and Eponine crawled onto the mattress beside her brother and extended the tent.

She fiddled with the stuffed toy before planting it in her lap.

"So, Quincy went to school today huh?"

Nodding at his folded legs, the boy refused to look at Eponine.

"Did he help?" She asked, patting the old bear on the head.

Another quick jerk of Gav's head confirmed it.

"I'm not mad." She started, plucking Quincy up and placing him in front of her. She held his fluffy hand in hers and rubbed the fur. "I just want to understand, yeah?"

A few moments passed in silence until Gavroche sniffled and wiped his hand under his nose.

"Antoine called me a pussy when he went into the closet and saw 'im in my pack." He signed, squirming under the confession.

"Names don't mean anything Gav. Our name, no matter what people call us or think it means doesn't define us. We are better than that."

"I don't care what they call me." He returned stubbornly.

"Your shiner and bandage beg to differ." She shot back.

A moment later, he began to cry. Not openly, just a few tears that leaked out and ran down the length of his nose.

"Shit." Eponine cursed. Her mothering skills were worse then she assumed. "Gav, I'm sorry. Please." She wrung her hands, anxious to touch him.

"'Ponine! H-he was spewing shit 'bout you and 'Taire. What you both do."

Eponine lost feeling in her hands and forgot to breath.

"He said you're a **whore**. And 'Taire **sells…**" Rage radiated from his small frame and little hands balled in to fists at his sides.

"Gavroche…" She began, and centimeter away from the truth, as ugly as it was.

"So, I hit him. Like I'd seen at Bahorel and Courfrayac's party. And at the Inn." His voice dipped when he mentioned their former home and Eponine couldn't blame him.

When they'd finally left, Gavroche had been found severely malnourished and developmentally delayed. One of Joly's clinic connections had convinced a physician to see to the trio for a bargain price and the littlest Ami had been in grave danger. All of the Amis had pitched in time, food and affection. Within the year Gav had gained weight and height in addition to a new family.

The evidence before Eponine proved that not all wounds were easily mended.

"Ah. Well, you know why you and Antoine got in trouble then." She stuttered. "You've got a nasty mark though." Lifting her hand to his face.

Tilting his head towards her Gavroche agreed. "He takes martial arts at the community center."

"Aren't you lucky to have three karate teachers to his one?" Eponine smiled, poking her sibling in the chest.

"Really? Imma ask Grantaire tonight! Do ya think Bahorel and Feuilly will be at the meeting tomorrow?" He bubbled excitedly, all traces of anger, worry and fear erased from his countenance.

"Buddy? Let's get out of here. It's getting a bit hot."

Gavroche yanked the blanket above his head and bounced up from the makeshift bed leaving Eponine tangled in the worn blanket.

"Hey, Gav! Wait a sec." Ditching the blanket, she called him over from the window. "Could you tell me something, why did Quincy go with you to school today?"

He shrugged and tried to turn towards the window. A bird caught his attention and he took the opportunity to turn away from her.

In the silence, Eponine had her reason. With a hurried peck on his cheek, she let him alone.

Time. Cosette had prescribed time. Under guise of a hypothetical patient, the undergrad had picked her father's psychiatrist brain about Gavroche (ahem, a child survivor of domestic abuse).

In the months that followed their liberation from the Thenardiars, Gavroche had begun wetting the bed, lashing out at fellow students and depicting violent scenes during free time and art periods at school. Eponine had been desperate enough to ask Les Amis for help after a particularly heated meeting with the district psychologist who threatened social services.

As a psychology student, Cosette offered textbook answers and gleaned the rest from her father's expertise. For now, it seemed that Gavroche needed continuity, safety, time and space.

These needs ranged from improbable to damn near impossible to fulfill. Each failure enlarged the crack in Eponine's wall. What would happen when her armor fell apart? Would she fall with it?

Wrinkling her nose at smoke Eponine waved the air around her face, trying to clear the scent. The closer she came to the kitchen, the thicker it became.

"Enjolras?!" She yelled, smoke stinging her eyes. Quickly she located the fire extinguisher and aimed it at the stovetop. "Step back!" She ordered.

Once she was positive the flames were out, Eponine moved towards the windows and Enjolras followed suit.

"This one's stuck." She grimaced, hitting the pane in frustration.

"Here." Enjolras offered, applying one hand above and below the glass before shoving it open in one fluid motion.

"It's like breathing a peppermint." Eponine mused, her skin turning to goose pimples in the frigid air.

"Or toothpaste" He smiled taking gulps of the fresh air.

"So, what exactly were you trying to do?"

"Ah. I wanted to help. So I tried to make lunch."

"With what?!" Eponine exclaimed. "Grantaire was supposed to go grocery shopping over the weekend. You must not 'ave had much to work with."

Blushing, Enjolras explained. "I used one of those cook-with-what's-in-your-kitchen-apps. It told me to make omelets."

"Ah. We're not that fancy…and Grantaire is the only one brave enough to use the burners. The gas isn't reliable."

"Really." Enjolras deadpanned. Which earned him another smile from Eponine.

"What the FUCK?"

Eponine jumped smacking her head on the windowpane as she pulled herself back in to the apartment. Enjolras took care to duck and joined her.

Using a dishtowel Grantaire was examining the charred remains of Enjolras' cooking experiment.

"Gourmet isn't it?" Eponine teased, attempting to break the tension and prove that everything was fine.

Dropping the pan back on the burner, Grantiare took in his roommate and Enjolras standing by the ratty sofa. One of who looked tired and sported a new bandage. While the other appeared suspiciously guilty and sheepishly met his gaze.

"Gav?" He asked, drawing Eponine in to a hug.

"He's fine, sitting in his room. Well, he's been suspended, but I'll explain later." She gestured, waving her injured hand.

"You're bleeding through." Grantaire noted, catching her arm and turning it gently.

"Where do you keep the aid kit?"

Grantaire's head snapped towards Enjolras and he blinked. God, how could he forget he was there? Even in the smoky apartment, he was beautiful. Once his heart stopped hammering in his ears, and Grantaire believed no one was in danger he was filled with Enjolras' presence.

"On the shelf above the toilet" He answered, pointing towards the loo.

Eponine and Grantiare moved to the couch and he began to unwrap Joly's professional grade work.

"Are you alright?" His voice low.

"We're talk later yeah?" She forced a smile. "Let's focus on getting your status upgraded from fuckbuddy to boyfriend."

"Shut it." Grantiare returned, yanking the last of the elastic wrap away from the gauze.

"Ow!" She yelped, pulling her arm towards her body.

"Here." Enjolras set the kit on the refurbished trunk that doubled as a table.

"Thanks." He nodded.

The boys stared at each other for a second too long past friendship and Eponine rolled her eyes.

"Okay. If I could leave two buggers alone to talk I would. But since I am tethered to my darling 'Taire, I can't. So here it is."

Grantaire took the pause in her speech to telepathically tell her to SHUT THE HELL UP.

Enjolras sank to the floor, panic heating his ears and face preparing him for this conversation.

"This afternoon Enjolras caught me at work, and we talked about _you_. Don't you feel special? Anyway, it is clear that you both care love each other."

Grantaire cringed, but held his breath.

"Just make it official and date each other already. 'Taire, after today Enjolras has seen our brand of chaos and he didn't run. In fact, the bastard took on the stovetop. That takes balls and so does dating, but you both have plenty." She ended with a wink and wicked grin.

"You took on the burner huh?" Grantaire asked, sliding to the floor.

Enjolras nodded and bit his lip. "I…"

"Shut it." Grantiare whispered, sealing Enjolras' mouth with a kiss.

"I'm sorry." Enjolras breathed. "Should've told you how much I love you from the beginning." Grantaire answered him with a harder kiss and a promise.

"Lover-boys, I assume this means you are dating."

They broke apart and nodded to each other before Grantaire flipped off his best friend.

"Yes." Enjolras laughed. "Does that make you happy?"

"It's about damn time." Eponine barked. "Shit." She frowned, watching her blood stain more of the white gauze.

"Com'ere." Grantaire clucked. "Enjolras, can you get some butterfly bandages open?"

"Are your hands clean?" She winced as he peeled the remaining gauze and closures away.

"Yeah, yeah."

"So, are you two going on a hot date tonight?" She asked Enjolras eagerly.

"Well, I was planning on cooking a romantic dinner, but you saw how well that my practice meal turned out."

Eponine laughed. "Perhaps you should venture out for food, or stick to microwave cooking."

"Trust me Ep, I would forget to eat if Combeferre didn't remind me. Instant food or ordering comprises my culinary talents."

"Speaking of food, do we have lunch?" Grantaire spoke up, patting his stomach.

"Well, Gav has peanut butter on half a folded piece of bread and one of Cosette's cookies from his school lunch."

"Ah, anything except eggs works for me." Enjolras piped up.

"Right. Let's go pick something up before I have to work." Grantaire nodded at Enjolras, who stood.

"Do you have a preference hun?" He asked Eponine.

"Nah. Whatever you two feel like 'Taire."

As soon as the door closed, Enjolras pushed Grantaire against the wall and pressed their bodies together. He responded by biting Enjolras lip and grasping his hips. They moved together, already intimately familiar with each other's preferences and physical desires.

"Oy! There is a child in here and we can hear you making out!" Eponine's yell was accompanied by Gavroche's laugh.

Laughing, Enjolras released him and they thundered down the rickety stairs. Grantaire laced their fingers and Enjolras tightened his grip, grateful to have his phantom limb back.


	10. Chapter 10 - Laundry Dates

**Chapter 10 – Laundry Dates**

Sighing with content, Eponine patted her slightly swollen stomach.

Grantaire burped loudly and fell back against his boyfriend who was still slowly eating the second half of his sandwich.

Swallowing Enjolras looked up. "Was there a race I didn't know about?"

"Nah, we just…" She started, absently playing with her hair.

"Yeah. And you lost leader boy." Grantaire interrupted, leaning in to steal a bite.

"Hey!" Feigning annoyance, Enjolras tugged his sandwich away before making airplane noises and moving it in front of Grantaire's face like a prize to be caught.

"If you fancy losing a finger, keep that up." Eponine warned. "Right Gav?" She asked, ruffling the boy's hair.

He sat on the floor with his back to the sofa folding the piece of foil his lunch had been wrapped in.

At Eponine's touch he startled, but did not make a sound.

She frowned and played with his hair, trying to summon magic words that could assuage his angst.

"Right. Ep, we're going to head out." Grantaire flicked his unruly mop of hair towards the door.

After a quick look at the time Eponine pushed herself up. "Shit. Of course, are you going to make it?"

"Enjolras offered to drive me." He smiled, handing his boyfriend his messenger bag and coat.

"Alright." Unsure of the proper etiquette, she picked her way over and awkwardly opened her arms. "Friends now?" She asked in front of Enjolras.

"Amis." He agreed, enveloping her in a gentle quick embrace.

While the trio stood, Grantaire glanced over at Gavroche and his wrapper.

"We'll talk later yeah?" He confirmed with Eponine, trying to convey his concern.

"Yeah. Try to bring back some dinner for him? He barely touched his packed lunch."

"I'll see what I can smuggle out." He agreed, jamming a beanie over his curls.

"Toilet paper!" Eponine called as the door closed.

5 blocks, 2 hampers, 1 hour and several minutes' later two red-faced thoroughly frozen siblings arrived at Jehan and Courfrayac's flat.

"Bonjour!" Eponine greeted, gently prodding Gavroche through the threshold before lugging her person and laundry in.

"We come bearing a shit-ton of stinky presents." She joked, unloading Gavroche.

"Oy! Are you a pack-mule now 'Roche?" A jovial voice burst.

"Only 'cause he's strong and sturdy, right petit homme?" Eponine smiled as she took the detergent out of his hands and helped him slip off his backpack. "Why don't you go play with 'Fra?"

Jehan watched his boyfriend coax the boy in to a high five and lead him in to the spare room (also known as Courfrayac's adult play room).

"He's not talking today Ep?" The poet asked, helping her empty the laundry baskets.

The first time Eponine had done laundry at their flat, she'd thrown the whole enchilada in at once, ashamed and afraid to ask to run another cycle. He'd been horrified and patiently taught her the merits of separating colors and utilizing color safe bleach.

Now they sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor making piles.

"Fuck. I think I need to run at least 2 today. Is that alright?"

"Of course, how are we separating?"

Blushing Eponine shook her head. "I haven't done laundry in 3 weeks. Gavroche and Grantaire need their own pile for…should-have-been-pitched-but-we-can't-afford-t o-lose-layers-this-time-of-year."

Raising an eyebrow, Jehan nodded hesitantly. "Well. How do I know which is which?"

"Good question. See this?" Pawing through the pile, she withdrew a shirt. "The seam's been re-sewn. That's mine. I-I haven't had a chance to industrialize the boy's clothes yet. There will be more holes and ah…the smell should put you off."

"Aha." Jehan delicately held a pair of Gavroche's jeans away from his nose. "These definitely belong _there._" With a toss he attempted to land the rank pants in the washer above his head.

"A sportsman you are not." Eponine teased.

"I wouldn't mind wearing polo clothes or a cricket uniform." He smiled, pretending to swing a bat.

They settled in to a comfortable silence when Eponine gasped. "I have a tidbit for you."

"Oh yeah?" He dared.

"Don't sass me monsieur. It has to do with your beloved couple de impossible." She purred.

"Out with it!" Jehan cried, accidently hugging a dirty bath towel to his chest.

Smiling coyly, Eponine crawled closer to her friend. "Alright. Enjolras asked Grantaire to be his BOYFRIEND."

"AHHH!"

"Wonder what they're on about." Courfeyrac mumbled, glancing at the door. "Ahh, fuck!"

"Shoulda kept your eyes on the road prick." Gavroche smiled. His tongue sticking out in concentration.

"Watch and learn dude." He threatened, leaning towards the screen. "Oy! Where'd you get that bomb. Bollocks."

Silence ensued and Courfeyrac tossed the controller in front of his chair before stretching and standing.

"I'm gonna go spy monkey-boy. Want anything to eat?"

"Non." He answered quickly.

Leaving the door ajar behind him, Courfeyrac leapt into the independent dance party his boyfriend and best girl initiated.

"What are we celebrating?!" He yelled, spinning in to a pirouette.

"THEY'RE DATING!" Jehan exclaimed, miming a tap number worthy of Fred and Ginger's criticism.

"NO!" He gaped. "Honestly?"

Sweeping her hair off her forehead, Eponine nodded. "It's official. Enjolras is part of the…ah." She hesitated then frowned.

"Circus?" Courfeyrac suggested, pulling Jehan into a waltz.

Eponine turned her attention to the washing machine and laughed when the couple ended up on the floor after a badly attempted dip.

"Done with the dance party already?" She teased, adding a capful of detergent.

"Where's the ice?" Courfeyrac grumbled, pressing a hand to his ribcage.

Wincing, Jehan rubbed his back. "I don't believe I am meant to bend that way."

"That's what she said." He winked. A fellow theater student had introduced him to the American version of "The Office" and the Amis could throttle her with gratitude if given the chance.

"Don't let Joly see you freaking out, both of you will wind up in the emergency center." Eponine warned, leaning against the vibrating washer.

"Touche." Wrapping an arm around his lover, Jehan nestled against their futon.

"So, someone better give me the details. Leave nothing out, I need all the ammunition I can get."

"Alright." Eponine smiled, and relocated to the futon. "He came to 'Chetta's…"

Three hours, several orange sodas for Gavroche, two bins full of clean laundry, and a flurry of hugs and kisses later, they boys found their studio apartment oddly quiet.

A couple blocks south, Eponine found her flat in a similar state. Gavroche hadn't said a word during the commute and dutifully did everything she'd asked of him, even holding the door open for her.

"Hey Gav, can you grab the laptop from Grantaire's room?"

Without a word, he retrieved it and set it on the makeshift coffee table by the couch.

"Com'ere." She asked, patting the space next to her on the fuzzy cushion. "Let's watch some Sherlock alright."

As they watched Sherlock take London by storm, Gavroche settled against her chest. He played with her fingers, a habit leftover from early childhood. When John stood trapped by Moriarty with a bomb strapped to his person, Eponine ran her fingers through her little brother's hair and squeezed him gently.

After the one with "the bastard hounds" which he loved, but Eponine hated, she noticed that he'd fallen asleep. Gav's thumb hung loosely in his mouth and she's just finished extracting herself when the door unlocked.

"Shh." She gestured with a finger to her lips. Grantaire nodded and watched her cover Gavroche with an old throw.

"Hey, how was work?" She asked, peering in to the fridge for beverages.

"Eh." He shrugged. "A prissy bitch refused this chicken parm 'cus the mean looked pink. Feuilly saved it…and here's dinner."

"Damn!" She nodded appreciatively, and settled on orange juice that was only two weeks past the expiration date.

They leaned over the micro counter taking turns chugging the juice and twirling pasta in comfortable silence until Grantaire's phone vibrated.

"Monsieur missing you already?"

A stony look told her otherwise, but Eponine pressed on.

"Ooh. A secret." She purred.

"Shut it. Enjolras has an exam tomorrow he's got to study for. Some art history course he's been forced in to taking by Jehan."

"Ah." Poking at the barely cooked chicken she paused. "Do you regret it?"

The stolen dinner sat uncomfortably in his stomach. "What?"

"Not going."

"Enough."

"Valjean found the scholarships, and you are incredible. 'Taire, you can-"

"_Enough!" _Slamming his hands on the table, Grantaire grabbed his coat and without warning found him-self blinking in the ill-lit street in front of their flat.

His shaking hands lit a cigarette and he let his feet lead the way. The frigid air and smoke invigorated his mind and made him bolder. Fingers flew over letters in a message. With a satisfied swallow, Grantaire stuffed the phone in his pocket and hopped on a University sanctioned bus.


	11. Chapter 11 - Halloween Art

**Chapter 11 – Halloween Art**

"Fuck, fuck, **fuck**" Eponine cursed, clutching at her scalp.

Why did she mention art school? Fuck. Had this conversation ended well the last time she'd brought it up?

No. Grantaire had ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. Glancing at Gavroche she let her coat and purse fall from her hands. He couldn't be left alone. Well, neither of them could…but splitting herself in two was not an option.

**Where are you?**

Pushing Gavroche's hair off of his forehead, Eponine frowned at her phone and tapped out another text.

**I am sorry. **

With her little brother settled on the toddler mattress in their room, she quietly shut the door.

A couple weeks worth of messes twisted the guilty knife in her side, but Eponine sank to the floor in front of the couch. Scrolling through her contacts, she swallowed her pride and fired off a text to Joly.

Tapping the enter key, Eponine waited for the laptop to wake up. Flicking off the lamp, the screen blinked to life. This fine piece of hand-me-down electronics had been their first luxury purchase. He'd surprised her in July during a particularly awful heat wave.

Succinct vibrations in her lap tugged Eponine's attention to her phone.

"Hello?" She answered eagerly, hoping Grantaire's rough voice would greet her.

"What happened?" Joly demanded.

Standing Eponine pressed a hand to her head. "I messed up Joly. I really fucked it up."

"Baby, take a breath. Where is Grantaire?"

"He's gone. Art school came up. I-I don't know where he went."

Joly drew a sharp breath. "How long ago?" He demanded.

"Almost an hour now." Eponine closed her eyes and heard shuffling and Joly's hurried explanations to his lovers through the phone.

"Give me 10 minutes, do you want decaf or regular?"

"Regular please." She sighed. "Grantaire brought home leftovers from work. See you soon."

Quickly she donned one of Grantaire's ratty jumpers and wrangled her hair in to a messy bun. In familiar haste, she straightened up the living common room and kitchen. This consisted of shoving their shit in to the bedrooms and under the sofa, but who had the time or supplies for actual cleaning? Eponine certainly didn't. She'd just extracted the last cheese curl from the worn sofa before Joly's signature knock registered.

"Coming!" She called automatically, mentally kicking herself once she remembered who was sleeping only a few yards away.

Pulling the door open Joly's solemn face, pink with cold smiled tensely. "Hey, I brought hot cocoa for Gav too. Here." He offered.

"Thanks love." Popping the lid, she inhaled deeply. "Coffee is the nectar of the Gods."

"Enjolras would agree with you." Moving to the couch, Joly removed his knapsack and dug around for a laptop and dog-eared notebook.

"Should we start with the usual suspects?" Eponine asked, extracting a pen from her bun.

Nodding Joly ripped out a sheet of paper and slid it across the table. "I'll start with Bahorel, Feuilly and some of the other Amis. Do you want to call the old hangouts?"

"Alright." Downing as much of the searing liquid as she could, Eponine squared her shoulders and began to dial familiar numbers.

"Who the fuck is calling you?" Grantaire growled, biting Enjolras' neck.

"Doesn't matter." He answered, relieving Grantaire of his shirt.

Enjolras wove their fingers together and pushed Grantaire against the futon.

"Sure about that?" Grantaire arched his back as Enjolras pressed his body to his.

"None of the Amis are going to contact me tonight. I'm supposed to be studying remember?" Enjolras whispered, silencing his boyfriend with a kiss.

"No luck?" Joly asked, draining the last of his tea from the take-away cup.

Lifting her head from her hands, Eponine squinted at him. "What gave it away?"

"Caffeine gives you the same frustrated, frazzled, hyper energy that Enjolras gets after too much coffee." He shrugged.

Nodding, she scooted closer to Joly and drew her knees to her chest. "What should we do now?"

"Wait a couple hours and see if he to contacts anyone?" He asked.

Eponine was the real boss. Any decisions regarding her boys went though her. Their three-person family was more efficient and closer than most nuclear families Joly knew.

"Alright." She agrees after a long look at the door to Gavroche's bedroom. "It's all my fault."

"What happened 'Ponine? It's not like you two to fight."

Pulling her arms around her middle Eponine set her chin between her knees. "Maybe I was in mama tiger mode from dealing with Gavroche. From the moment the take-away food was opened, he was on edge. I shouldn't have pushed him. Then he got a text from someone…probably Enjolras. I kept talking, asking if he regretted not taking the scholarships and running off in to a new life."

"Oh Ep…" Joly sighed.

"He's always taken care of me…of us. All I want to do is make sure he is all right. Grantaire always scrapes by. He's sacrificed himself time an time again to keep me safe."

Admiration brightened her face and Joly offered a small smile. "One day, he's going to look around this hovel and realize he could have a life. A real one, with a good guy like Enjolras and be a famous artist selling his work before he dies. Not like that Van Goh." She laughed and a few tears collected in her eyes.

"He'll leave and be great. I know he can be great." Biting her lip, Eponine glanced at the couch. "If he drinks again. It's all my fault." She choked out, crying in earnest now.

"Shh." Joly reached for her, taking care to approach slowly. "If, if Grantaire relapses…you are not at fault. I promise."

He felt her stiffen against his chest.

"Don't lie to me Joly." She murmured.

Kissing her head, he rested his chin on her braided crown. "Never. Remember? I'll never lie to you."

Joly felt her breathing even and body gradually relax cell by cell. He waited patiently, holding her loosely until she asked if they could lie down. With one hand on his chest, Eponine closed her eyes. Focusing on the quiet, Joly willed Grantaire to be okay. Eponine's concern radiated like heat from her body, and he found himself remembering the first time he'd been tempted to lie to his friends.

_Halloween – 2011 _

"_For the love of…" Joly muttered, selecting a highlighter. "Haven't you heard of quiet hours?" He asked, shaking a fist at the ceiling. _

_The even vibrations of a stereo answered him, and Joly pinched the bridge of his nose. _

_Muffled screams and worried voices permeated the cheap door. The volume increased in the hallway until he stood and heard thunderous frantic knocking. _

_Cautiously he cracked the door open and found himself face to face with Grantaire. His eyes were wild and had dried blood streaked across his cheek. _

_Gasping Joly stepped aside and pulled his ami in to the standard dorm room. _

"_W-what?" He managed, watching Grantaire hug the thin girl tighter to his chest. _

"_Grantaire." He said gently, moving towards him. _

_He jerked backwards, bumping in to a dresser. His ami flinched and spun around with fists clenched, ready to fight. _

"_Hey, R, it's me. Take it easy, yeah?" Joly calmly assured, his pre-med training kicking in. "Let's put her down alright? Nice and easy. That's it." He encouraged, bending to the floor in sync with Grantaire. _

"_Please save her." He croaked, rocking back and forth on bent knees. "Should've….my fault…." Great sobs shook him and the young lady in his arms moaned at the jarring movement. _

_Flicking his eyes to the woman, Joly gently helped Grantaire lower her to the floor and release her body. _

"_What happened?" He asked in shock. His fingers moved over her swollen face, littered with bruises and blood. A jagged cut decorated her scalp and matted her hair. The familiar face grimaced in pain at Joly's touch and he quickly withdrew his hand. _

"_E-Eponine." He whispered disbelievingly. Glancing at Grantaire, Joly received a grim nod. _

"_Oh God, no, no." The student wrung his hands, pacing the width of the room. _

"_Please…please help her. Joly, I don't know w-what to do. It's never been like this before." He managed before dissolving in to silent sobs. _

"_Grantaire, It's alright. Just, just help me get her shirt off?" In another circumstance, they would have laughed, the virgin bookworm unsure of how to approach the opposite sex. _

_Tonight, Grantaire set his jaw and undid the buttons with shaky fingers. Joly probed her ribs, counting breaks as he went along. Every touch sent Eponine writhing in an effort to escape him. Which in turn sent waves of what he was sure to be unbearable agony throughout her broken body. _

"_Please, Grantaire I need to know what happened. Every time I try to examine her….I think it's making her injuries worse." Joly's voice broke, and he drew a shaky breath. _

_Grantaire caught his friend's gaze. "Azelma. She protected her biological sister, from being sold tonight." _

_Joly offered him a damp washcloth and he began to dab at the dried blood caked on her face and chest. _

"_Wouldn't you know that bastard…" Bitterness dripped from his tongue. "He punished her. All of the Patron-Minette. All five of them, new runner included, maybe her father too I don't know, they they took turns with her. For hours. I don't know how long she stayed conscious." _

_His fingers hovered over the lump on her forehead. "Hopefully this knocked her out. How fucked up is that?" He stared at Joly. _

_Joly made a noise at the back of his throat and placed his hand over Grantaire's. Words failed him and couldn't begin to address the damage tonight caused. _

_Quietly, the boys scraped torn clothing and coagulated blood from Eponine's body. There were more wounds than Joly cared to count. Luckily his first-aid kit was military grade, and contained enough supplies to treat half of Paris. _

"_Shit." Joly muttered, holding a butterfly bandage in his teeth. "Grantaire I think we need take her to a hospital. She's bleeding so much. E-everywhere." _

_Grantaire shook his head vehemently. "No. I p-promised. No way." His voice rose and he pressed a towel soaked with Eponine's blood to a wound on her thigh. _

"_Oh!" She groaned, twisting away from both boys. _

"_Hey, hey. 'Ponine." Grantaire loomed over his friend. "Eponine. 's alright. We're safe. It's over." _

"_Mmm. Hm." She garbled, her mouth full of swollen tissue. _

"_Honey. Please look at me. It's alright. Joly is here. I'm here." _

_Blinking the eye that wasn't quite swollen shut, Eponine rolled as much of her head as she could to the side and vomited. Her body convulsing in pain with each heave of her stomach. _

"_Shit. Grantaire, sit her up!" _

"_No. That'll hurt her!" He argued. _

"_If she aspirates, she won't hurt anymore." The student snarled. Slipping a hand under her neck, Joly motioned for Grantaire to support her back and they lifted her upright. _

_He forced himself to be deaf to her cries and focused on care instead. First aid was all he could offer her. With every bandage and strip of gauze, he imagined his love healing her wounds. He hoped that the anti bacterial cream and rubbing alcohol would keep infections at bay, and allow her peace of mind. _

"_No-hmuh-nouh." Eponine clutched at Grantaire's jacket, her bruised eyes widening as much as they cold. _

"_What?" Joly asked, leaning forward. _

"_One more time 'Ponine, try again." Grantaire asked, tilting his ear towards her. _

"_No. No lies. No lies." Desperate for him to understand, she tugged at the fabric before _

_falling limp in exhaustion. She stared at her saviors and leaned against Grantaire with her lip trembling. _

_Giving a curt nod to Joly, Grantaire propped her upright. _

"_Alright. Eponine, I think most of your ribs are cracked, broken or bruised. You could probably use stitches in your scalp, but I'm trying to stop the bleeding as much as I can with what I have around." He gestured at the wrappers and bandages that littered the floor. _

"_Can you tell me what else hurts?" The student probed gently. _

_Wincing she turned her head from side to side and pointed to the entire left side of her face. A molted purple pattern had began to bloom and swell. Carefully Joly manipulated the tender skin and guessed that her jaw wasn't broken only severely bruised. _

_Time passed slowly, as Eponine remembered her body and drew attention to the broken pieces with shaking hands and garbled words. _

"_Blood." She said faintly, pointing to the dark stain spreading through her skirt. _

_Joly's heart sank and he swallowed the urge to run away. Rape? Bossuet's broken fingers he could splint, Musichetta's burns from work he could treat, migraines that plagued Enjolras were manageable. Assault. Beatings within an inch of life were not in his area of expertise. _

_Glancing at Eponine, he noted her pale sweaty skin, glassy eyes added to her steady blood loss. _

"_Eponine? I need you to stay awake." He half-shouted, rubbing her sternum with a fist. _

_Grantaire glared at him and tugged her shirt down. "She needs to rest. This always happens," _

"_No. She will bleed out, I need to put pressure on the wound and we need to get to the hospital immediately." Joly directed, his heart hammering at this sudden burst of assertiveness. _

_Pale, Grantaire nodded at his ami's declaration. He knew that Joly would never risk emergency care if they didn't require it. _

"_We need a ride." Joly mumbled as he wrapped an elastic bandage around Eponine's pelvis securing the temporary bandage he's fashioned out of a small towel. "Call Courfeyrac."_

_Grantaire must have hesitated, and before he knew it Joly slapped the phone in his hand, leaving a bloody handprint on his palm. "Now." _

_Transferring her to Joly's arms, Grantaire led them out of the dorm and stood in the middle of the parking lot, waiting for Courfeyrac. _

"_What's 'appening?" Whispered Eponine from within the cocoon of a cheap comforter. _

_Joly could feel her bones shivering and shifted her weight so he could hold her closer. _

"_Courfeyrac is picking us up and we are going to hospital. You need stitches 'Ponine, medicine and probably casts. I-I-I can't fix it this time." _

_Fear dominated her features. "No lies?" _

"_No lies." Joly confirmed. _

_With her head against his chest, Eponine closed her uninjured eye and sighed. "Take care of 'Taire. 'M fine." _

_Lights blinded him and an engine roared. Grantaire ripped open the back door and ushered Joly behind the driver's seat. Once tucked in Grantaire held Eponine and hummed soothing melodies. Joly absently rubbed her knee through the tacky fabric and attempted to work out how long it would take Courfeyrac to navigate holiday traffic. A sea of orange and purple blurred by as their friend sped through intersections. _

"_Joly! Either she's had an accident…or…ah." Grantaire gave a strangled cry and let the borrowed blanket fall away from her legs. _

_The glow of Joly's phone revealed darkened fabric that he tentatively touched. His fingers came away sticky and to his horror, stained red. _

"Hmm, babe?" Enjolras felt around the bed fingering sheets still warm from Grantaire's missing form.

Blinking he saw light from the bathroom door that stood ajar. He smiled and stretched out. Satisfied would be an understatement he mused. Although he'd been pissed that Grantaire ignored his mass text that demanded no interruptions, he certainly did not feel the same now. Enjolras yawned happily and scratched his head.

"Hey." Enjolras greeted, rolling on to his side and propping his head up with a hand.

Grantaire's face darkened at the word, and stood with his phone in his hands.

"What's going on?" He asked, sitting up.

Grantaire merely shook his head and scrolled through messages, his face unreadable.

Confused, Enjolras closed his hands around his phone and tore his eyes away from Grantaire to unlock it.

Fuck. 37 texts. 18 calls. They varied in urgency and spanned the last few hours. All of them had to do with Grantaire. Apparently he'd gone missing.

He swallowed thickly and felt his body burn with adrenaline. "R. What's going on?" Enjolras asked again.

"Nothing. It's nothing." Grantaire snapped. He backed away from the bed and donned his discarded pair of jeans.

"Come here. Where are you going?" Enjolras scooted across the mattress until his feet found the wooden floor.

Tugging on a loop of his boyfriend's jeans, Enjolras pressed their lips together and asked him to stay. When they broke apart, Grantaire remained still and Enjolras held his breath waiting for his next move.

"No." The two-lettered word hit Enjolras like a punch to a kidney. He staggered backwards when Grantaire pushed him away. As if in a trance, he watched Grantaire gather his keys and coat. His hand shook as he slammed the door shut behind him. Enjolras' phone vibrated again, and he opened a new text from Joly full of panic and an explanation.

Selecting the familiar number, Enjolras waited for his ami to pick up.

"R's gone. Start at the beginning." He demanded.

Grantaire walked in the shadows of the street lamps. He left his coat open, welcoming the frozen wind that numbed and stimulated his senses simultaneously.

The place on 57th would be open, but he could get his money's worth at the establishment off of 2nd and Main St.

His throat itched for the familiar burning sensation, but his stomach rebelled at the guilt of relapsing.

Eponine's face flashed across his memory. She'd stuck to his side when he'd decided to detox last year. Even when he couldn't make it to the bathroom, or when he'd taken a knife to the mattress because the withdrawal induced hallucinations convinced him that spiders were hiding there.

Dammit. He was so weak. God, he needed them both. His nails curled against the glass window of the shop and he reached for the door.


	12. Chapter 12 - The Alley

**Chapter 12 – The Alley**

"Are you still there?" Joly paused, listening to controlled breathing through the phone.

Eponine hit his arm lightly and held up a scrap of paper.

"Right. What bars and liquor stores are near you?" He asked, teasing a pen cap off with his teeth.

"Cheap ones!" Eponine blurted out.

"Cheap ones. Quality is not what matters." He echoed, opening Google maps on the laptop. "Yeah, I'm putting your address in now." He shifted the screen towards Eponine and watched as she searched the site for familiar shops.

"Follie's!" Eponine exclaimed, jamming a finger at the laptop. "They have the cheapest vodka around, he u-used to buy it when…"

She trailed off and Joly knew what was left unsaid. The last time Grantaire relapsed, he'd wound up in the hospital for alcohol poisoning and hypothermia.

"You will?" Joly's voice rose in surprise, but after murmuring thanks, he ended the call.

Eponine was halfway through buttoning her coat, when Joly's hand touched her shoulder.

"Enjolras is on his way to Follie's. He'll call if he finds him."

She raised an eyebrow and finished dressing. "He doesn't know how to deal with this."

"Gavroche can't be left alone."

"Aren't you staying with him?"

"No way in hell am I letting you wander the streets of our beloved Paris at this hour."

They reached a stalemate and stared at each other until Joly exhaled. "Do you think Courfeyrac and Jehan are up to babysitting?"

"If they weren't, they will be." She smiled, winding a scarf around her neck. "I'll get Gavroche."

A couple minutes later, the bedroom door creaked open and Eponine approached Joly with Gav nestled against her neck.

Joly insisted on carrying him the five blocks to their friend's flat. Eponine maintained a firm grip of Quincy and her little brother's favorite blanket as they walked the three flights of stairs. Gavroche's head rolled off Joly's shoulder and Eponine motioned for him to let her take over.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, why don't you run along and knock."

Joly bounded ahead leaving the siblings on the second floor landing.

"Shhh." She whispered, Gavroche's unruly hair tickling her chin. His body was warm and heavy in her arms as she carefully ascended the steps.

Motherhood had been thrown at her, and at times she certainly struggled. However there wasn't anything, no amount of suspensions, urine-soaked sheets, or bedtime arguments would ever lead her to regret getting custody of Gavroche. Eponine loved every moment, although she's never admit it willingly. Those who had emotions and shared them so easily were weak, a target for the world. Despite this belief she fiercely protected both of her brothers, and grew to care about many of the Amis, much to her chagrin.

"Here you are sweetheart." Jehan cooed, taking a sleepy Gavroche in his arms.

Eponine handed Courfeyrac Quincy and the blanket. "Make sure he has these okay? I made sure he went to the bathroom before we left, so he should be alright for a few hours."

"Okay. Allons-y little man." Jehan smoothed the little boy's hair off of his face and leaned in to plant a kiss on his older sister's cheek.

She closed her eyes, and just for a moment allowed herself to feel safe. Jehan was the resident optimist, and often mothered his friends. Sensing her walls come down for a moment, Joly held her face.

"Ma cherie, we will deal with whatever happens." He whispered. Pulling away from her, he addressed Joly "Keep us in the loop alright?"

Courfeyrac dug his hands in pockets and stared at the floor before finding Eponine. "Let me know what I can do yeah? He's…ah…"

The theater major broke off, his voice thick with emotion.

"Yeah." Eponine managed. He needed reassurance, but she couldn't offer any. Jehan slipped an arm around his waist and squeezed. Eponine retreated, shields up and defenses primed. Gavroche was safe, and now it was time to focus on her other brother.

Hazy good byes were said and Eponine didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until an icy wind hit her like a lorry. She gritted her teeth and followed Joly, whose light frame was weaving in the gusts.

"Wanna split a cab?" He asked, squinting in her general direction.

"Zoom in on my empty wallet." Eponine laughed, increasing her steps. _Rent_ was Grantaire's comfort film. Her heart ached and she tried to see past the guilt that clouded her intended mission.

"Touche darling." Joly responded, hunching his shoulders against the chill.

They traveled in silence, until Eponine tugged him around a corner.

"Over here, it's shorter to cut through Rue Addison."

"At this hour? You're fucking insane."

"Don't be a bebe." She teased. "Do you want to carry my taser?"

"What are you left with?" Raising an eyebrow, Joly accepted the piece of equipment.

She drew a decently sized knife from the inside of her boot and grinned in its' metallic reflection. "Just this."

Rolling his eyes, he linked arms with her and disappeared in to the dark alley.

God. It had been years since Grantaire prayed. How long? Before he had been thrown in to the foster care system. Those memories were hazy, while his days at the Thenardiars' Inn burned brightly in his mind. His heart dropped, and for a second he remembered his mother's embrace. Her warmth, and comfort wrapped around him and held him in suspension of that moment. Whether he'd fabricated this version of a mother, or it had an element of truth did not matter.

Two forms staggered through the alley, disrupting cans and trash. He startled, and slammed against the building. Breathing the frigid air seared his lungs and hurled his mind back to reality.

The bottle hung loosely in his hand, and Grantaire let his head drop between his legs. He knew how to fail. The bar had always been set low for him. His blood abandoned him, teachers gave up on him without a second thought, and he barely held minimum wage jobs. Worthless. Once, a year or so ago he'd tried to sell a piece or two at a street fair. No one bought and critics spat aristocratic insults. A masquerade of bullshit Eponine declared, who had been on a _Phantom of the Opera_ kick at the time. She lied of course, he'd never been worthy of truth.

Relapsing was shit, but it was familiar. The guilt and self hatred bubbled in his gut, ready to spread its' poison throughout his scarred body. No one needed him. Eponine and Gav would be better off without him. They could get their new beginning. He'd die anyway, one way or another. Sirens and the score of the homeless snared his senses and he surrendered himself to the night.

On paper and blogs, Enjolras had declared himself an advocate for the people. Yet, as he peeked in to another alley rampant with scents he'd rather not identify the leader came to an important if not embarrassing conclusion.

He did not understand the people's plight. Night after night, he talked at the café. He and Les Amis debated politics and argued details of administrative decisions that in reality did not to urge action or impact anyone that these campaigns claimed to help.

Action, he judged, that was sorely needed. Stepping over a broken crate, Enjolras spotted a mop of ebony hair barely contained by a hooded jumper. The figure had their knees folded to their chest and had a bottle hanging from one hand.

Tentatively, he approached the man. Enjolras knelt on the dated cobblestones and reached out to touch him. Nights of flashbacks and one memorable black eye led him to reevaluate this decision and his hand hovered inches above Grantaire's shoulder.

Like in most of his battles, words served as Enjolras' weapons. Fortunately his arsenal was seasoned and powerful. Yet, anything that came to mind sounded cliché and left a bitter taste on his tongue. Grantaire had always been the one to cut through his academic vocabulary. His crude language held an honesty that commanded attention. Enjolras had passion and talent for public speaking, while Grantaire held a jaded reality in perspective. They were perfect opposites. Enjolras' light to his dark.

"Grantaire."

Bloodshot eyes widened. "Enjolras." Disbelief clung to his name. "Come to see the peoples living arrangements this side of the city?" He snickered, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eyes.

"Shut it." Enjolras commanded, "You have everyone worried and wound up tighter then Joly during flu season."

Closing his eyes, Grantaire attempted a grin. "Now that's a metaphor worthy of our poet."

He heard fingers tapping on a screen and he found Enjolras furiously composing a text.

"Late for a booty call?" He blurted, loathing himself as the words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Is that what you think?" Enjolras gaped. "After all this time?"

"Just leave." He choked, pulling his arms tighter around his legs.

"Grantaire, God." Lost for words, Enjolras sat next to his boyfriend. There was no space between them a seam of fabrics and body heat bonded their forms.

Eventually Grantaire let his head drop against his shoulder and Enjolras reached for his hands. Gently he peeled Grantaire's fingers away from the bottle one at a time. To his astonishment, the bottle remained sealed.

Holding Grantaire's frozen fingers, Enjolras kissed the digits and rubbed his hand until warmth returned.

For the first time in his life, words had failed him. Like he'd promised Eponine, he would not disappear. He would prove his love to Grantaire every minute of every day. Enjolras tugged on a black curl and pressed their lips together. He leaned away when he tasted salt and saw tracks of tears along Grantaire's face. Carefully, Enjolras helped his lover settle in his lap. Thinking back to his childhood and emulating his mother's tactics, Enjolras rubbed gentle circles on Grantaire's back and held a hand protectively against his head.

Enjolras stiffened, and Grantaire's eyes flew open. His face contorted as he tried to identify the forms approaching them.

"E-Eponine?" The woman looming over him resembled his sister, but the figure practically seethed. Her eyes were wild and her wind-teased hair stuck out from under her hat at odd angles.

"Who else, you prick?" She shouted, wrapping him in an embrace.

"Oy Eponine! Can't breath."

"You deserve it! I-I-I." She stuttered, realizing that her brother was indeed fine…and sober. That meant she owed him an apology, and everyone knew admitting fault was not her strongest suit.

"R." She bit her lip, and her cheeks pinked. "About before, it's my fault. I am sorry." Eponine drew back, as if expecting a slap.

Sensing this, Grantaire held his hands out to her. Eponine fell in to his arms, holding on for dear life. With Joly and Enjolras murmuring greeting somewhere above their heads.

He stroked her hair and rocked while she nuzzled his neck and whispered words that hurt too much to say aloud.

Two damaged puzzle pieces that by some miracle fit together perfectly. Grantaire had tweaked a metaphor Enjolras coined during a rally, and Eponine believe it suited their lives. For years, she operated under the assumption that they were alone. No other pieces survived intact enough to join them. Now Eponine could fathom connections, especially with Les Amis. Joly had always been there, skirting around their universe. Courfeyrac and Jehan had stumbled in to their lives and decided to stick around. After a peek at Grantaire settled securely in Enjolras' lap, she realized the crisp sturdy edges of the leader's piece fit nicely in to their world.


	13. Chapter 13 - Le Petit

**Chapter 13 - Le Petit**

"Le petit prince is still asleep…and breathing." Courfeyrac announced.

"Bonne!" Jehan yawned, patting the space beside him. "Although I told you Gav doesn't need to be checked on every quarter hour."

Courfeyrac eyed him warily before flopping on to the bed.

"My dear, Gavroche isn't a pet." He started, encouraging his boyfriend to snuggle against his side. "This will not be another Monsieur Le Chat."

At the deceased's name, the student burst in to tears.

"H-he was the _best_ mouse, _a-and I killed him_."

"Shhh. It's alright love." Jehan soothed. He patiently waited until Courfeyrac's sobs turned in to hiccups.

Coyly, Jehan peppered him with kisses before moving off the bed.

"Hey! Not fair." Courfeyrac pouted, moaning dramatically as he stood to follow his boyfriend.

As he rounded the corner, he gasped. Jehan stood with a tub of Ben & Jerry's, a spoon, and Season 4 of the Office (US version) that his boyfriend's schoolmate had lent him.

"Honestly, how did I manage to find you?" Courfeyrac asked, pressing Jehan and his handfuls of distractions against the fridge.

"The stars…" Jehan started, a sonnet on the tip of his tongue.

Courfeyrac swallowed his lover's words and continued the poem with a few lines of his own.

Repeated vibrations stirred Courfeyrac from a sugar-induced slumber. Carefully extracting his arm from around Jehan's waist, he answered his phone.

"Hello?" He yawned.

"Courf? Is Gav alright?" Words tumbled out of her mouth and assaulted Courfeyrac's sleep addled ears.

"Ep?"

"Who else would it be?!" She shouted.

He grimaced and held his cell away from his ear. "Oy. Give me a sec would ya?" After a beat he continued. "You alright? How's Grantaire? Joly and Enjolras are still with you?"

Eponine paused and there were muffled shuffling sounds on the other line. "Hold on a sec Courf."

He impatiently tapped his foot and heard Joly murmuring comforting words to a distraught Grantaire.

"Another flashback. Sorry." She drew a breath and adjusted the phone. "Anyway, could you and Jehan keep Gavroche for the night? Things…are a little…intense. I-I don't want Gav to be around."

"Of course 'Ponine. What else can we do?"

"Merci Courfeyrac. The guys are walking us back. I don't know who's staying over, but I'll call you in the morning yeah?"

"Yeah. Take care Ep." His chest ached, and before he could think his mouth opened. "Love you." He blurted.

Eponine inhaled sharply before abruptly ending the call. Guilt warmed her face, but she shook the feelings away.

"Is Gav okay?" Joly asked, helping Grantaire to stand.

"Yeah. They are fine with him staying the night." She smiled, and cupped Grantaire's cheek. "Let's go home yeah?"

He nodded shakily and leaned on Enjolras.

None of the Amis noticed a bulky shadow trailing behind them as they journeyed towards the tenement.

Eponine brushed a mass of curls off of Grantaire's forehead and stood. His eyes stared blankly in to the darkness. She left the door partly open and joined the boys in the kitchen alcove.

"He's laying down, I don't think he's here though."

Enjolras gave her a confused look, while Joly nodded and handed her a mug of tea.

Grasping it, she thanked him and leaned against the counter.

"So, it's quarter to 2. Do you both want to stay the night?"

The students looked at each other. Joly spoke first "Musichetta and Bossuet will miss me, but I'm worried about leaving you and R."

Eponine's heart lurched at her roommate's old nickname. "We'll be fine." She choked out.

Carefully he watched her expression shift. "Call me. I'll be up early. If I don't hear from you, I'll stop over…without coffee."

Smiling, she nodded and pulled him in to an embrace. "Love you." She whispered in to his neck. "No lie."

"No lies." He replied, kissing the top of her head.

Clearing his throat, Enjolras grasped the door. "I'll walk you out Joly."

"I'll get changed, and leave the door unlocked for ya." Eponine narrated to Enjolras, setting her cup in the sink. "Good night sweetheart."

"Night Eponine."

Enjolras closed the door gently behind them and Eponine sighed. Grantaire muttered and thumped around the mattress in fevered dreams. Squaring her shoulders, Eponine detached herself and summoned strength to ground her better half.

"Are you going to grab a cab?" Enjolras asked, turning up the collar of his coat.

With a shake of his head, Joly took a step backwards. "Nah. I fancy a walk after a night like this."

He nodded and dropped his head in acknowledgement.

"Are you staying?" The medical student's question held multiple levels.

After a moment, Enjolras let his eyes meet his friend's gaze. "Yeah."

Joly opened his mouth to respond, but bit his lip instead. He lifted his arms and drew the leader in to a hug.

"See you tomorrow morning at Musain. 7?"

"I'll be at the usual table." He confirmed.

Enjolras shifted his weight and watched Joly disappear around a corner. His body vibrated with the adrenaline of the night's events. His nerves jumped like he'd consumed a few triple shot lattes. He'd never seen Grantaire so undone. In the beginning when he and Eponine had begun attending the meetings, he'd attributed the cynic's attitude to alcohol. From the way Eponine had snarled at him the night before, he'd gleaned that his drinking habit was only the tip of the ice-burg so to speak. There had been a feral protectiveness about Eponine and to a lesser extent Joly, when they'd found him in the alley holding Grantaire.

It wasn't that Enjolras didn't understand secrets or pain. He certainly shouldered his own scars. Grantaire's history was his to tell. Enjolras decided at the moment to never push him. God, they spent so many nights at each other's throats playing on arguments and political beliefs.

Work mattered, of course. His passion lay in law and providing a voice for the people. Love and relationships, as Jehan had often preached held everything together.

Enjolras turned and began the short trek back to Grantaire's flat. His senses were blind to reality as his mind churned.

A sharp pain struck his skull and reality surged around Enjolras for a moment before blackness clouded his vision and the world went dark.


	14. Chapter 14 - Search

**Chapter 14 – Search **

"Should I even bother asking?" Grantaire groaned rubbing his face.

"Ah. Nothing too awful."

He screwed up his face in concentration. "Joly was here, yeah?"

Nodding, Eponine chewed a fingernail and waited to see if he would work out what else happened. The string of curses he expelled a moment later answered that particular question.

"Enjolras." He winced, burying his face in the mattress.

She patted his back. "R, he's fine. Didn't leave or anything. In fact, he looked rather perturbed when Joly and I found you both in the alley."

He gave her a disbelieving look.

"Honest!" She exclaimed, holding her hands in surrender.

"Fine. Did he go back to his flat?" Grantaire asked, flipping on to his back.

Her face brightened and she wagged a finger in his face. "Let me say this. You won't be sleeping alone tonight…"

"WHAT." He exploded, attempting to tame his curls.

"He walked Joly out. Should be back up any minute."

"Yeah?" Grantaire swallowed uneasily.

"Don't fret." She kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair before moving into the living room. "And try to remember I can't afford earplugs yeah?"

He forced a laugh and gripped his phone contemplating straightening up or brushing his teeth.

The pills Joly had convinced him to swallow made his limbs heavy. Grantaire's mind whirred and churned like an ancient computer at the public library. Thoughts washed over his brain in waves and receded too quickly to be processed.

His lids closed and without his assent, Grantaire's breathing slowed in to long even breaths. He eased in to a medicated slumber with his head propped up by his hand, waiting for his boyfriend's return.

"Hullo?" Eponine croaked.

"Hey. Eponine, er. It's Combeferre. Enjolras' flat mate. I think we've met a handful of times."

His voice was melodic and nearly lulled her back to sleep. "…anyway" He continued. "Ah. Enjolras did not come back last night, and I wanted to remind him that we've got a meeting with Joly before lecture at quarter to 8."

Eponine stifled a yawn and tried to pay attention to Combeferre. There was something about the way he spoke that made her want to straighten her spine.

"Right." She confirmed. Why, she could not say. She wasn't his freakin' secretary and had no business keeping her best friend's lover's schedule.

On the other line, Combeferre exhaled. "Look, I can see how strange this whole situation is."

Eponine felt herself smirk. Please. He couldn't be this naïve. Then again to choose Enjolras as a roommate and friend, he must be an idealist.

"But could you…maybe check and see if he's there? Or not." He sputtered.

"Fine." She agreed. "Although, if I walk in on anything. You're to blame. Understood?"

"Yeah, yeah. Um."

She'd clearly managed to ruffle the guide's feathers. For some reason, that made her smile. "Whatever. Hold on a sec." Pulling the phone away from her ear, she padded in to the Grantaire's room.

The sight that greeted her was a familiar one. Bad nights didn't surprise her anymore. Grantaire was curled against the wall just under the sad excuse for a window. The view was a fifth of sky with a lovely close-up of the rundown factory a meter away. He lay curled in to himself as tight as his spine would allow him to bend.

A glance at the mattress told her that they were alone and she moved in front of her brother.

"Grantaire." Nibbling her lip, she bent down and gently shook his shoulder. Under normal circumstances, she never would have woken him like this. Sure enough, as soon as her fingertips grasped his arm he sprang upright. Gasping for breath, he growled a streak of curses and pushed damp curls out of his eyes.

"What the fuck Ep?" He exhaled.

She stood a meter or so away, with arms wrapped protectively around her middle. Her voice shook as she brandished her cell. "Look, Combeferre is waiting for me to ring him back. Apparently Enjolras didn't manage to tell anyone he spent the night."

Grantaire's face stiffened before he stood and leaned against the wall.

"What?" She demanded. Her heart raced as she took in his ramrod straight posture and the panic that structured his features.

"He never came back."

"Whadda you mean HE DIDN'T COME BACK?" She couldn't help it. The last couple of words slipped out in a scream.

Wincing, Grantaire rubbed an ear and began pacing.

"He didn't come in. He-I would have heard him." His step quickened. "Damn. Shouldn't have taken those pills from Joly." Grantaire mumbled and absently scratched at his unshaven face.

Eponine watched his movements carefully. Without coffee, her brain creaked to life. "You mean, he…" The end of her thought died in her throat.

Grantaire snapped to action and began inspecting clothes that were strewn around the room.

"He's missing." She admitted. "What are you doing? Grantaire, I…" Her heart clenched as Grantaire struggled to button his jeans with shaking hands.

He avoided her gaze and pulled a hooded jumper over his head.

Eponine recognized the determined stance and how his brow furrowed in frustration and a kind of raw energy. Perhaps anger? She knew from experience that there would be no talking sense in to him.

"Here." She offered.

Grantaire frowned, but wound the proffered scarf around his neck.

"You'll freeze your balls off."

"Right. Thanks Ep."

He expected her to leave or at least rush off to take a shower before work. His interest piqued, when he bent to tie a shoe and caught Eponine rummaging through a pile of laundry on the floor.

"Got any jumpers? Gav is sleeping in my last clean one."

"Ah. Sure. Does 'Chetta let you wear that sort of shit to work?"

She scoffed and lifted a sweater to her nose. "Haha, no! I'm going with you."

Grantaire sighed. As kids he used his body to shield her from blows and hide her behind other children or a piece of dilapidated furniture. Somehow she always managed to wind up in the middle of the scuffle. Eponine was not afraid of anything. There had been a particularly bad night when he was 10. A client had knocked Grantaire around and managed to break his nose. Thenardiar deemed he needed to be taught a lesson about bloodying the customer and the mattress. Didn't he understand health codes? That particular irony still brought twisted smiles to their faces. Grantaire had felt unconsciousness claiming him, when a blur of black hair knocked him to the ground. The little girl threw her entire frame against Thenardiar. She beat her fist against his chest and screamed. One sickening slap caused her to fall back in to his arms. From that moment, Grantaire knew that he had no control over Eponine's actions. He could only participate in the aftermath. He vowed to always catch her. Like that night. Her body fit perfectly against him, and he was grateful for his broadening shoulders that expanded like wings to shield her malnourished frame as he rolled her underneath his body, away from Thenardiar's belt and kicks.

"R? Time to go yeah?"

He blinked and found himself staring at Eponine jamming one of his beanies. Her eyes held that familiar fire.

"Course." He answered gruffly.

"Combeferre called Joly and Courfeyrac. They are rallying the others to search around their flats and Uni."

Grantaire nodded and hunched his shoulders in the crisp winter morning air.

"I told him we'd scour the shitty part of town." Despite the seriousness of the situation, Grantaire could detect a bit of pride in her tone.

"Where do you want to start?"

"Must 'ave walked towards the metro, since Joly lives a block and a half west of there."

Grantaire set his jaw and let his ward-of-the-state-instincts take over.

"The alleys." Eponine tugged on his jumper.

Grantaire's stomach sank and he entered a familiar alleyway by the factory. Eponine ran ahead, her heeled boots clacking against the pavement.

Everything sounded as if he were underwater. Urine and trash invaded his nose. He crunched papers beneath his trainers and scanned the narrow space between buildings.

His mouth opened to call for Enjolras, but as his lips began to form the familiar letters he froze.

A sewer rat scuttled out from under a pile of rubbish. Grantaire flinched. He was definitely spooked. Curiosity as well as self-preservation guided him to the lumpy trash.

He knelt and peeled back a piss stained section of newsprint. Shock propelled him forward. Blond hair matted with blood. Ashen skin. In this state Apollo resembled his namesake. His limbs were stiff and marbled with a blue-gray hue. His lips could've been stained with blueberries.

Enjolras. His Apollo had turned to stone. His chest was still. No movement.


	15. Chapter 15 - Mercy

**Chapter 15 - Mercy**

He did not recognize the scream that ripped from his own throat.

Nor was he aware of Eponine pushing him away from Enjolras' cold frame.

He watched in detached fascination as Eponine lowered an ear to Apollo's chest.

If Enjolras hadn't been transformed, he would have squirmed at the tickle of her hair on his bare skin.

If he were breathing, Enjolras would have twisted away and laughed.

If…

Fuck. Her hands trembled as Eponine ran through CPR instructions in her head. Opening his mouth, she swept a finger inside and extracted a strip of fabric bunched together with blood and spit.

Her knitted hands pounded against his chest in memorized rhythms. Counts told Eponine when to inflate his lungs. In between compressions, she ordered Grantaire to call for help.

"Come on." She whispered, pulling away from Enjolras' cold lips. "How long?" She snapped at Grantaire.

"Five minutes? They're sending a unit too."

Shit. Her muscles ached and she grew more lightheaded each time she filled Enjolras' lungs.

"R. I need you. Come here."

He rushed beside her and Eponine directed his attention to her hands. "Put them on top of each other and curl your fingers together, like you're holding your own hand."

Grantaire observed with rapt attention and mimed Eponine's actions.

"Okay. On the count of 3 you take over, alright?"

Grantaire opened his mouth to argue, but instead nodded.

The next couple of minutes seemed to last for hours until the wailing of sirens perforated their concentration.

"Thank God, thank God." Eponine allowed herself to be taken away from Enjolras.

Another emergency worker pressed some type of medical device over his mouth and nose while two more swarmed around Enjolras' still body.

"No. NO."

His declaration snapped her out the fog.

"R." She twisted away from the man that was attempting to wrap her in a shock blanket and stumbled towards Grantaire.

"R. Stop. We gotta let them work. They have to help him, R."

He would not, or could not look at her. Eponine instead opted to envelope as much of him as her small frame could hold. Millimeter by millimeter Grantaire carefully collapsed against her, they fell to their knees and let the warmth of their bodies serve as a reminder of reality.

The city sped by in a blur of lights and that damn wailing siren. Eponine tightened her arms around her legs and fingered the chain of her necklace.

One finger.

Hands of EMT's manipulated and prodded Enjolras' body. One finger was the only part Grantaire had access to. Eponine had fought for his right, as Enjolras' boyfriend to ride in back of the ambulance.

"Baby. I'm right here." He bent forward to lay his lips on Enjolras' forehead.

"Sir. I have to ask you to stay back."

"What's going on?" He croaked.

The EMT gently removed the oxygen mask from the blond student's face. "Monsieur's heart has a stable rhythm, but his breathing is abnormal and erratic. Once we get to the hospital, he'll be intubated and a machine will help him breathe."

Grantaire glared at the tech. He couldn't help himself. How could this stranger sound so calm? He didn't know shit. Anger swelled in his esophagus for the first time since they discovered the broken marble statue.

"30 seconds, Miles!" The driver announced.

Before Grantaire could process those words, the doors flew open and a flurry snow and activity blew in the ambulance.

Eponine blinked. Autopilot kicked in and she guided a shell – shocked Grantaire to a plastic chair in the waiting room.

They had been forced from the trauma bay. The whine of a machine propelled everyone in to action. A defibrillator cart rolled in to place and personal fought to be heard over the din. The bitch of a nurse pushed them from the room and blocked the entrance so they had no choice, but to wander the halls.

Vibrations and the opening notes to Amy Winehouse's 'Back to Black' jarred them.

"Shit. The Amis." Eponine dug around her hobo bag for her cell.

"I'll get it." Grantaire rubbed her arm and flashed his phone in her face. "It's Combeferre."

"17 texts. Oy. I'll call Joly." She confirmed, squeezing his shoulder before heading for the hall.

"'Ferre."

"What's going on? Where are you? What happened?" He spat, anger and concern darkening his tone.

"It's Enjolras. We found him in an alley by the rosary factory. Ep and I rode with the ambulance."

"Shut it." He hissed and Grantaire head shuffling on the other end. "Where? R, what hospital?"

"Mercy. We're…they won't let us in. I-I'm not related. God. Combeferre."

"Stay there R. I'm on my way. Hold on."

Grantaire pressed the top of his phone to his lips and exhaled.

Combeferre sped through intersections dictating texts to Bahorel. It became clear that the man needed something to do after Combeferre's dashboard took a beating.

"Just tell everyone to meet us at the hospital. R and 'Ponine found him. That's all we know." His voice cracked at the end of the sentence and Combeferre cleared his throat, hoping to dislodge any fear.

Parking proved to be nightmarish, but with a few vile signs and a bit of colorful language Bahorel scored street parking a block away from the Emergency Department.

Jehan's braid dotted with multicolored ribbon drew Combeferre's attention to the corner of the waiting area.

"Where is he?"

Eponine dragged the back of her hand across her eyes and unfolded herself for Jehan's lap.

"Probably still in trauma bay. They won't give us any information. We aren't next of kin or an emergency contact."

Combeferre resisted the urge to wrap her in an embrace. Her posture shifted and she appeared to retreat in to herself.

He nodded and swerved around her.

"Don't." Eponine shook her head and blocked him from taking the seat next to Grantaire.

They stood facing each other in a stalemate of sorts until the trio burst through the double doors.

"Eponine, Eponine, R." Joly scanned the space frantically wringing his hands.

Grantaire straightened his spine for a moment and stared in disbelief at his friend.

"Shh. It's alright. Shh." Joly spoke in hushed tones and gathered the cynic in his arms.

Fresh sobs were muffled by the pre-med student's coat. Eponine allowed Musichetta to lead her to the loo and suddenly the boys were alone.

Combeferre intuitively took attendance and ticked off missing members. Feiully and Enjolras. His stomach clenched at the thought of his injured mate. This wasn't a fucking meeting, but he couldn't stop himself. Enjolras was the speaker. He held audiences' attention for hours and incited a passion that was rarely reproduced.

"Right." Clearing his throat, Combeferre rubbed his temple. "Er. Everybody."

Bahoral punched Jehan's arm lightly and gradually the anxious chatter ceased.

"We should take shifts. Gavroche needs to be picked up at the end of the day. 'Chetta can't keep the shop closed for long."

"That's not fair!" Bahorel growled, his arm curling around Jehan who had resumed crying.

"Yeah mate." Courfeyrac added softly. "We're all here 'cause we need to be." His friend stood and clamped a hand of Combeferre's shoulder. "Besides, if anyone is leaving it should be for coffee." A smile tugged at his mouth.

"That would be me darlings." 'Chetta kissed Eponine's cheek and guided her to a seat next o Grantaire before rejoining Bousset. "What can we bring back for everyone?"

Murmurs picked up again and Courfeyrac turned to face his friend.

"So. I seem to recall something about you and I being Enjolras' emergency contacts."

"Yeah."

"Does he have any family we should call?"

Combeferre shook his head sadly. "No. He had a falling out with his parents years ago, and…no. It's just us."

"Right. Shall we? I may be able to charm my way past that scary looking nurse, but I don't speak doctor."

"Course my friend." Impulsively Combeferre squeezed Courfeyrac's fingers before they set off in search of information.

"Whaddaya mean? It's a simple question!" Courfeyrac pivoted and wound his hands through his unruly hair.

Combeferre eyes his friend before transferring his attention back to the doctor.

"Please, we are his family. See, we're listed as his contacts in case of emergency."

"Which this CLEARLY qualifies as." Courfeyrac shouted.

"I gave you his medical history." Combeferre continued, pointing at the forms someone had tucked in Enjolras' chart.

Finally the grey-haired man consented and ushered them in to a semi-private room.

"Your friend has survived a violent attack. He has multiple fractures to his ribs, possibly a break to his jaw, a compound fracture in his left femur and internal injuries. Wounds an bleeding are consistent with assault. Would you consent to collection of evidence and materials on his behalf?"

"Enjolras." Combeferre correctly. His voice barely above a whisper.

"Is. He. Alright." Courfeyrac gripped the chair until his knuckles shone with sweat.

The physician removed his stethoscope and held it in his hands. "When he arrived, his breathing was erratic and in order to stabilize him we placed him on a ventilator. He has been put in a medically induced coma in order to give his body time-"

"Doctor Valjean! The patient in Trauma 1 is coding. Prolonged seizure."

"Call an operating theater." He directed, his movements deft and confident.

"But-what-" Courfeyrac sputtered.

"Fantine here will escort you to the waiting area upstairs and provide the paperwork you need to fill out as his proxy. I'll be sure to send updates."

Combeferre had no reason to trust this old physician, but a determination and youthfulness behind his eyes compelled the student to nod.


	16. Chapter 16 - Familiar Wounds

**Chapter 16 – Familiar Wounds**

Eponine paced the seven squares of linoleum between Jehan and Grantaire. She crumpled the strip of fabric that had gagged Enjolras in her hands.

"Ep." Joly called, standing just outside her counted perimeter.

"Hmm."

"I'm not going to bother asking how you are…but." He shrugged and Eponine caught a glimpse of a much younger Joly, more naïve and vulnerable.

Even if she wasn't fine (and honestly how the fuck could she be?) it was her duty to lie.

On a 'normal' day, she barely passed for bat-shit insane. Acting opposite to her instincts, Eponine rose on tiptoe and gave him a quick hug.

"How are you?" She asked, returning the question.

Joly squeezed her hands and looked at the floor. "I-I'm worried about everyone. Look at him." His voice dropped an octave and he flicked his head towards R.

"I know. It's like before." Eponine gasped, shocked that she nearly broke her brother's confidence.

Puzzled, Joly searched her face.

Eponine cut off any further inquiries by shoving the scrap of fabric at him.

Alarmed by the blood and other dried fluids, the resident hypochondriac leapt backwards.

"What the fuck Ep?!"

"Quiet!" She hissed, dragging him by the arm in to the ambulance bay.

"What is this?" He demanded, yanking the cloth away from her he held it at arm's length.

She raked a hand through her hair. "When Grantaire found him, he wasn't breathing. I took a CPR course when we got custody of Gav. So, I opened his mouth to check for obstructions and that's what I found." She glared at him and shifted awkwardly on her heels. "This is their signature."

Joly froze. "You don't mean."

"Yeah."

"Jesus. Does Grantaire know?"

"No. I just worked it out while Musichetta was in the loo."

Her skin prickled and Eponine found herself falling in to memory.

"_I'll be off then." He coughed. After touching her face gently with the blunt end of his trademark knife, the door slammed shut. Eponine struggled upright, still bound against the post. Panicking would only hurt her, so she willed herself to breath normally through her nose. As it was, her mouth was stuffed with a strip of her own shirt. Saturated with fluids that the thought of made her gag. Her body shivered and called attention to the fact that she remained without a shirt. The skirt Azelma had helped her hem the other day had been discarded a few yards away along with her panties. Montparnasse's words echoed in her mind. "Such a smart mouth for a stupid girl. This ought to teach you." _

_Every visit after that ended in gagging with strips of her clothing, until Thenardiar found out and made Montparnasse pay for the clothes he'd shredded. _

Her eyes burned and Eponine reached for Joly.

"What if they hurt Enjolras?" Her voice was small and child-like.

"Like you and R." He phrased it like a statement instead of a question.

In lieu of confirmation, Eponine sank to the pavement. Her mind raced, mapping escape routes and contacts she could use.

Joly had learned not to corner a wounded animal the summer that he and Courfeyrac spent volunteering at the animal shelter. His friend had received more than his fair share of scratches and bites from injured patients that he only wanted to aid.

"Hey. We're here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Gavroche and R." He could see the gears of her mind turning and her body itching to run.

Eponine snorted. "You can't promise that."

"Not by myself, no. But with everyone I can."

She didn't answer, but let her head fall against the building.

"With all of us, you will be safe. We can manage. Let us help."

"_YOU DON"T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE CAPABLE OF"_ She wanted to shout. If she could, she'd wring his neck until he understood.

She and Grantaire had their scars, and lived half-lives wrought with the cost of their past. But Gav, Gavroche had a chance at a normal life. How could she be the one to take that away from him? And R. It was a fucking miracle, but the man had found someone that loved him. There was no choice, but to stay for now. If. If they lost Enjolras…then she'd leave. She'd gather her brothers and they would start again.

Eponine exhaled and held up her pinky.

Joly smiled as he linked their digits.

"Surgery." Grantaire repeated.

"Yes." Combeferre confirmed. "Dr. Valjean said we can wait upstairs in the intensive care ward."

"Right." He nodded, pushing himself off of Jehan.

"Where's 'Ponine 'n Joly?" Courfeyrac frowned.

"Here." Joly answered. "What's going on?" Eponine was clutching his arm blinking at the sights and sound of the ED like a newborn.

"He's in surgery." Courfeyrac supplied. "We're about to take the lift."

"Who's operating?" Joly asked, watching Eponine slip the fabric in to Grantaire's hand.

"A Doctor Valjean spoke to us. Do you know him?"

Joly gave a curt nod. "I've observed him a few days with my internship. Let's get up there."

Courfeyrac wrinkled his nose. "Maybe you can decipher some of what he and that nice nurse said. Law comes easily, but medicine is a beast I'd rather not tangle with."

"Course." Joly answered.

Jehan curled himself in to Eponine and they wobbled towards the lift.

"Can someone text 'Chetta and Bossuet and let them know where we are?" The law student asked.

"Got it." Eponine snapped her gum and hefted her bag on to her shoulder.

"That's everyone yeah?" Combeferre assented and Courfeyrac pressed the button for the 4th floor.

"Are you sure?" Grantaire held Eponine's shoulders.

They stood in front of a snack machine, coins hot in their hands.

"Do you think I'd forget my fucking clothes?" She spat.

"Sorry." His grip relaxed. "Shit. Do you know what this means?"

"They found us."

"Not only us." Grantaire corrected.

Eponine noticed tears brimming in her brother's eyes. "Not only us." She echoed.

The pair stood in silence until Eponine cleared her throat. "Joly knows."

"About the Paton Minette?"

"The cloth, all of it."

"Christ…"

"We're not running this time R."

He gaped at her. "You can't be serious 'Ponine."

The flash of anger across her face confirmed her decision.

"Leaving won't solve anything." She stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and raised her shoulders. "You and Gav have lives here. Enjolras, and the Amis are…family."

Grantaire waited for her to continue.

"Remember what our deal is with family? You taught me…damn." Eponine sniffed and violently wiped at her face.

Grantaire tucked her head under his chin and gently swiped his thumb under her eye. "Merci ma petit soeur. We will stay."

17cups of coffee, 3 cups of tea, 32 magazines and a myriad of sugary snacks later, the Amis had officially usurped the ICU waiting room.

Bahorel lay sprawled across 6 plastic chairs. Feuilly sat with his back against the giant's trainers (he swore it was comfortable although no one quite believed him). Bossuet faced Feuilly, his face full of consternation.

"Aha. Go Fish!" Bossuet called triumphantly. "No. Wait. Um gin? Rummy?" He faltered, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"For fuck's sake. Did you forget the game?" Feuilly yelled, letting the cards fall from his hand. "AGAIN?!

"Oi!" Musichetta stage whispered. "Ep's asleep." She jabbed a finger at her lap, where her friend had laid her head.

Eponine sighed loudly. "No I'm not. It's fine."

"Whatsgoingonhmm?" Bahorel grumbled, opening his eyes sleepily.

"Nothing." Courfeyrac snapped. "Nothing for hours now." He paced the length of the room at a caffeine fueled jog.

"Courf." Combeferre started, pushing his glasses back in place.

"Don't, mon ami." Courfeyrac's voice shook. "Don't tell me that he is fine."

Combeferre ducked his head and stayed silent.

"He's right."

Everyone whipped around to see Eponine draw herself upright.

"No one knows."

"That doesn't mean we don't hope." Joly added quietly.

A squeak of rubber against the linoleum caught the group's attention. Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Joly accosted the nurse they now knew as Fantine.

Eponine moved behind Grantaire and gripped his shoulder. He caught her hand and held in in place, once again binding and grounding each other.

"He's out of surgery."

Collectively the room exhaled.

"Is he going to be alright?" Courfeyrac asked.

"Is he breathing on his own?" Joly echoed.

"Can we see him?" Combeferre added.

The nurse held up her hands and all three boys remembered themselves. Courfeyrac mused that the trio resembled a wolf-pack stalking prey.

"Your friend's liver was lacerated, but has been stitched. His spleen was considered beyond repair and removed at Dr. Valjean's discretion. His femur has been set and casted. For the moment, he remains on the ventilator. After 24 hours, the team will re-evaluate his status and consider reversing the medically induced coma."

The students looked at Joly to affirm Enjolras' survival. After a relieved nod, Combeferre turned back to the nurse.

"Can we see him?"

"One visitor tonight." She said firmly.

"Just go." Grantaire argued weakly.

Combeferre pinched the bridge of his nose. "He is alive. For the moment, that is enough." His gentle gaze pleaded with Eponine who had installed herself beside her acquired brother.

"R. You need to see him." Er. Platitudes and emotions were never her strong suit.

She briefly entertained the idea of smacking the back of his head and telling him to grow a pair. However, there were certain habits from their previous life in Paris' underbelly that did NOT fit in with the student revolutionaries from safe middle class families.

"Send him our love." Jehan whispered, holding a bunch of crumpled tissues. Courfeyrac kissed his boyfriend's cheek. "Yeah mate."

Musichetta, Bossuet, and Bahorel murmured their approval and Feuilly clapped Grantaire's back. He had been a child of the system and had been lucky to find a home with a kindhearted woman. Of all the Amis, perhaps he could empathize with their dysfunctional coping mechanisms and strange attachment issues the best.

A slight nod from Grantaire relieved Combeferre enough to rock back on his heels and exhale. The combination of coffee and adrenaline was wearing off and left him shaky and scattered.

Grantaire's affirmation left him exhausted. There were people to contact, necessities of Enjolras' to gather, plans to cancel, but he could not force himself to move a muscle.

"Err. You alright?" a voice asked.

"Uh huh." He answered automatically.

"Great. Ah. Can ya open your eyes then?"

Blinking Eponine's freckled nose came in to sharp focus. His attempt at a smile quickly contorted in to a yawn.

"See, fine. I told ya." As he tried to hide another yawn.

"Joly says you just came off a 14 hour shift before you rang me this morning."

"And?" He dared her to continue, a touch of Enjolras' stubbornness had evidently rubbed off on his roommate.

"And, that's fucking crazy. Gimme your keys. Time to go back to your flat."

Combeferre shook his head and argued weakly.

"Did I say this was a choice?" The dark haired girl nodded to Bahorel who lifted the guide to his feet. "Fuck no." She answered as she thrust her hand in to the front pocket of his pants. With an impish grin, she dangled Combeferre's keys in front of his face.

"Aye, aye Captain." Bahorel saluted, wrapping a supportive arm around the guide.

Grantaire anxiously tapped his fingers in memorized patterns.

"What's taking so long?" He growled.

Courfeyrac bit at a hangnail and shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe Enjolras has them wrapped around his demanding little finger already and is demanding a healthcare revolution."

His mate rolled his eyes.

"Ooh, a bit jealous of competition?" Courfeyrac teased.

"Fuck you." Grantaire laughed.

Silence followed the exchange. Both men shuffled their feet in shame.

The cynic broke the tension with a question. "Did everyone leave?"

"Joly took 'Chetta, Bossuet, and Feuilly back to the Café. Feuilly is working a night shift and he can walk from there. I think Eponine and Bahorel manhandled Combeferre in to his car." He chuckled at the thought of Combeferre trying to argue with the dark haired powerhouse.

"Monsieur Grantaire, you have 5 minutes." A nurse called from behind a partially drawn curtain.

The cynic swallowed roughly and yanked a hand through his black curls before entering stepping in to the space.


	17. Chapter 17 - Like Magnets

**Chapter 17 – Like Magnets**

The body on the bed resembled his boyfriend if Grantaire squinted like he was observing a modern art piece.

Machines pulsed and beeped. Wires and tubes crisscrossed his body. Bruises in varying stages clung to his skin like leeches.

White bandages and the cast that ran from his hip to his foot stuck out against the blue bedclothes and hospital gown. He noticed the stitches peeking out from under a bandage on his cheek.

A sob caught in his throat as his hands searched for a centimeter of Enjolras that wasn't hurt.

The ventilator clicked and filled Enjolras' lungs with oxygen as Eponine and he had done. Suddenly Grantaire's legs gave out.

Reality slammed in to him like a lorry and his hands shook uncontrollably.

Montparnasse came after him through Enjolras. Through his Apollo. Once he'd believed that his marble statue was untouchable. The broken pieces that lay before him served as evidence to the contrary.

_Do you see? Do you see what happens? _

The volume of his voice threatened to split his skull in two.

_Look what you made me do! The grip he had on his hair brought tears to his adolescent eyes. The hand forced his head down. The body's limbs lay at odd angles like a rag doll. Bruises and blood obscured the boy's identity. Had it not been for the soiled clothes, Grantaire would not have recognized his…_

_Friend? No. He was a whore. A selfish bitch who deserved nothing. Not food, not a bed, not toys, not love. Nothing. No person, adult or child in their right mind would want him for anything. _

Please stop Grantaire tore at his hair, rocking back and forth.

_Next time, he's fucking dead. Do you hear me? _

"No, no, no, no, no, no" He chanted, hot tears spilling down his face.

_Remy's body groaned and Grantaire reached for him. Hands yanked him away. Legs kicked at Remy and he just lay there. MOVE. JUST FUCKING MOVE. Grantaire willed him, struck numb by Thenardiar's tactics._

_Anyone he cared about fell. Struck down by the powers that controlled his shitty puppet existence. They pulled the strings and he could only watch through detached eyes what happened. _

_His touch was akin to King Midas. His touch poisoned everyone he came in contact with. He could only trust one person. That scrap of a girl that seemed to share his curse. Their poison seemed to mingle and in turn protect them from the outside world that threatened to destroy their fractured lives. _

Courfeyrac scuffed the floor with the tip of his trainer.

"Sir? There is a situation with your ah friend."

His heart hammered like a hummingbird. "Is he breathing? What happened? More surgery?"

The older nurse frowned. "Non. It is the young man who was visiting the patient."

Confusion gave way to concern as Courfeyrac followed the matronly woman.

"Oh feck." He breathed. 

"Grantaire."

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"Grantaire. R?"

Inhale. _Just open your fucking eyes coward. _

"R. Come on."

_Courfeyrac. It's a…you know him for fuck's sake. _

"Grantaire. Don't…come on 'round, yeah?"

Savoring the sensation of his nails bending under the clenched muscles in his hand, Grantaire forced his eyes open and audibly exhaled.

"Hey mate." Courfeyrac started.

"Sorry." Grantaire apologized, avoiding the pity in his friend's expression.

Carefully he let his hands fall open and away from his knees.

"I'm sorry," He repeated, making brief eye contact with the nurse.

With a final look at Enjolras, he brushed his fingers over his boyfriend's uncovered toes and followed Courfeyrac in to the ward.

To: 'Ponine

Enj stable. R flipped a shit and freaked the nurse out.

To: Courfeyrac

Fuck. Come back to our flat. Gav's passed out. Bahorel ordering take away. Indian?

To: 'Ponine

Deal. Get extra sauce.

To: 'Ponine

Btw try to restrain yourself from our B won't you?

To: 'Ponine

Can't have another scandal…

To: Courfeyrac

Please. You've got your pants in a bunch cause I'd be able to bag him b4 you.

To: 'Ponine

Do I smell a wager?

To: Courfeyrac

Depends what you're offering.

To: 'Ponine

Mademoiselle Thenardiar we shall rendezvous and finalize terms toute suite.

To: Courfeyrac

Shove that legalese shit up yours

To: 'Ponine

; ) With pleasure m'lady

Combeferre shuffled around the flat. He absently transferred textbooks and notes from the couch to the table and back again. He stirred a cup of tea until it grew ice cold.

Time passed in a strange manner. Each minute could be agonizingly long. Yet the next time he looked the clock above the stove, over an hour had transpired. His mind was somewhere hazy alternating between gathering some of his roommate's personal items and falling in to memories.

Enjolras' laptop hummed to life and guilt washed over Combeferre. Enjolras had insisted that he use his computer for as long as he needed to after the 'incident'. Public transportation had not been kind to the pre-med student. His messenger bag had slipped off his shoulder during rush hour and been trampled by hordes of commuters, a searing cup of espresso and a well placed stiletto heel.

He chuckled to himself, as the laptop accepted the password and revealed the programs Enjolras had open.

A half finished essay on Tolstoy, multiple tabs open with research on policies and of course BBC.

Ding! He jumped, scanning the screen for the source of the noise. The Skype icon bounced up and down. Clicking the program, he read through a dozen or so instant messages and four missed video chat attempts.

Combeferre's heart sank.

**Pontem3rcy**

**Enjy! I can't wait to talk to you. Major news. **

**Hey. Um did I get the time wrong? **

**Look, just let me know when you get on your laptop. **

**Okay. It's been 3 hours. Seriously Enjolras, if this is a practical joke Courfeyrac is making you pull, tell him it's NOT FUNNY. **

**Enjy? **

**I'm really worried about you. **

**Please just let me know you are alright. **

The guide gnawed at a chapped section of his lip and began typing.

**Rev0lut10nwhoweR **

**Marius, it's Combeferre. **

He paused briefly and hit enter. Marius began typing instantly.

**Pontm3rcy**

**WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON**

**I'VE BEEN MESSAGING YOU AND THE GUYS FOR HOURS**

**DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT TIME IT IS HERE?!**

Combeferre winced, even a couple continents away, Marius' panic could be felt. Sadly, his trademarked dramatics were warranted for this conversation.

**Rev0lut10nwhoweR**

**I am sorry Marius. Someone should have contacted you sooner. You must be busy, er; time differences are not my strong suit. You're near New Delhi right? **

**Pontm3rcy **

**NOT the point. Where is Enjolras?!**

**Rev0lut10nwhoweR**

**Right. To make a long story short, Enjolras was attacked between late last night and early this morning. We've all been at the hospital all day. He's stable for now, but heavily sedated. **

**Marius. **

**Talk to me. Please. **

**Pontm3rcy**

**I'm calling Granddad for a loan. I'll be back soon. I need to be there. **

Combeferre raked a hand through his cropped hair. It was useless to protest. Marius could be just as stubborn, if not more so than Enjolras.

**Rev0lut1onwhweR**

**Okay. Call me when you pin down a flight. **

**One of us will pick you up. Honestly, it will be good to have you home. **

**Pontm3rcy **

**Merci mon frère. Talk to you soon**.

"Uh 'Ferre? Are you in?"

"Here." He answered raising his hand halfheartedly. "Is work over already?"

He jerked his shoulders towards his ears. "Nah. Martine offered to cover when she heard why I was late."

"Tu chien!" Combeferre exclaimed. "Our flat mate would approve."

They exchanged sad smiles before Feuilly turned to grab a beer from the fridge.

"Want one?"

"What's left?" Combeferre squinted at the label from the rec room, not quite able to read it in spite of his glasses.

"Nothing too bad. The boys haven't been over in a while…so we have Guiness."

"Yet another abnormal event to add to this whirlwind day."

Feuilly smirked and tossed his friend a bottle.

"Cheers."

"To Enjolras." Combeferre added nobly. "Cheers."

Each man sat lost in thought until the opening notes of BBC's Sherlock theme song penetrated the comfortable quiet. Before Feuilly could explain or extract his phone from one of many pockets in his cargo pants, Combeferre's phone began vibrating incessantly.

"Napkins?" Jehan asked, dutifully clearing off the makeshift coffee table in preparation for the take away.

Eponine flushed. "Um. We're out…unless R pinched some from Chez Catherine."

"Hmm. Where are you hidiiiinnnnggggg?" The poet sang, rooting around the sparse kitchen.

"Try the loo. His organizational system makes no fucking sense to anyone, but him."

Jehan raised an eyebrow, but sashayed away from her in search of elusive paper products.

Eponine blew dust off the mismatched set of silverware and toted their collection of 'food holders' as Gavroche so aptly dubbed them.

"There." She sighed. A couple bowls, washed take away containers, a few plates and even the biggest mugs were laid out.

"Could we make due with bath tissue?" Jehan asked.

"Why not?"

Jehan kneeled by the couch, and began to fold miniature origami with the two-ply Grantaire had liberated from the Metro restrooms.

The poet hummed a few bars of an unknown melody and Eponine went to shut the door to Gav's closet of a room.

Even in sleep, Gavroche's brow wrinkled. He clutched Quincy to his chest so tightly, that even if she wanted to, Eponine did not think she'd physically be able to separate them. Despite the fact that the three of them had been living in the ratty flat for months, her little brother still wound up in the corner of the room nightly. His back huddled against cardboard boxes and his knees nearly tucked against with nose.

If there was a God above, Eponine would demand him to give Gavroche a fresh start. The same thought gnawed at her brain. Would he be better of with a real family? Two parents that could provide everything he could ever need. A backyard to play in, instead of alleyways full of discarded needles and the smell of piss. He deserved to feel safe.

Hell, if Enjolras was attacked, anyone could be next. The Patron-Minette could afford to bide their time. Send messages. Make her and R beg for their friends' lives if they did not return.

She could not. No, she would not let anyone else get hurt. Not because of her ugly scars.

"We will come bearing food." Courfeyrac announced. He held his keys in his mouth and kicked the car door shut with his foot.

Grantaire shivered in the night air and accepted the paper bag Courfeyrac placed in his arms.

"Ready?"

R stared ahead and followed his friend up the couple flights of stairs to his flat.

"HONEY, I'M HOME." The theater major burst.

Eponine leapt up and clamped a hand over her boisterous ami's mouth.

"Gav's asleep you lovable idiot!" She whisper-yelled.

"No I'm not!" A little voice quipped.

Courfeyrac made puppy dog eyes and slunk off to deposit the food at Jehan's well-set bohemian themed table.

"Hi there, ma petit homme. What are you doing awake?" Eponine knelt by her little brother.

"Can't sleep anymore."

"Alright. How was Claudia?"

Gavroche frowned. "Her cats are stinky. But she gave me a bunch of crunchy biscuits."

"So, not a bad day all in all?"

"Nah."

"Courf and 'Taire brought back Indian. How 'bout a bite?"

Her little brother crossed his arms and stared at his sister.

"Aww, come on. I brought back chopsticks! Wanna race with the tikki marsala?"

Courfeyrac chided, shoveling rice in to the curry.

Gav's face brightened considerably. He scurried over to Jehan's lap and picked up a piece of chicken with his fingers.

"Oy! Use a chopstick…or a fork!" Eponine yelled.

Grantaire pulled a vibrating phone out of his pocket and answered it skeptically.

"Is this Monsieur Grantaire?"

"Oui, who is this?"

"This is Fantine, from Mercy Hospital. Combeferre asked me to contact you. We'd like you to know that Enjolras is awake. He is stable, but still intubated."

Grantaire's heart hammered against his ribcage.

"Sir? Are you there?"

He managed to shake his head and choke out. "Yes, yes, I am here."

"Anyway, ICU patients are allowed one family member to stay with them passed normal visiting hours."

"But." Grantaire froze, gears in his mind turning slowly. "Do you mean…" Hope was dangerous. It could make you take uncalculated risks. It caused pain and heartache.

Fantine laughed softly. "Yes. You are allowed to see him. Come to the nurse's station on the 5th floor and I will get you settled in before my shift ends at 7am."

"I'll be there." He answered, the dial tone reverberating in his ear long after the nurse ended the call.

Grantaire leaned against the counter and tried to settle his brain.

"'Taire? Hey."

He nodded in response.

"Want some food?"

"Not hungry." He spoke to the floor.

Eponine nodded knowingly. "How about some tea?"

"No, thanks."

"Enjolras is awake." His tone flat and void of emotion.

She punched his arm reflexively. "When were you gonna speak up?"

He looked at her and blinked.

Grantaire opened his mouth to answer her and fell forward. His knees connected with the tile. Eponine rushed to catch her older brother, but cried out when his head crashed against the floor with a deafening crack.


	18. Chapter 18 - Naked Morning Guests

**Chapter 18 – Naked Morning Guests**

Eponine felt her throat burn, but could not hear the scream. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Why couldn't she reach him? She flung her body and flailed her limbs desperately. Hands gently restrained her and gradually her senses receded to normal arousal levels.

With all of the fight drained out of her, Eponine sagged between Bahorel and Combeferre.

"Take it easy tiger." The brawler teased, easing his friend to the floor.

"Where is he?" She winced, swallowing tensely.

Combeferre swam in to her vision. Sweat brushed his hairline and he made such intense eye contact that Eponine leaned in to Bahorel.

"Joly and Courfeyrac put him on the sofa. He's awake, but not talking to anyone."

"His head…" She began, a frown tugging at the corners of her drawn lips.

"Our med student is running a gamut of tests as we speak. I'm sure he'll live." He offered a small smile and pulled her to stand. "In between all of dear Joly's mutterings about TBI's and brain bleeds, he mentioned R is probably dehydrated."

Whether the proximity to Enjolras' roommate or the sudden loss of blood to her brain caused her dizziness was truly anybody's guess.

"Makes sense. Most days he eats less than I do."

"Squirreling away for Gav again?"

"Yeah." She tried to look sheepish and hoped she managed it. Let him believe that she and Grantaire were selflessly storing food for their younger brother. He did not need to know that flashbacks and a particularly intense day of depression squashed their appetites more effectively than any diet fad.

Which reminded her that if she wanted to stay conscious for the immediate future, she should eat something. Maybe. Only if Jehan confirmed Gavroche ate an acceptable amount for dinner. And after she knew Grantaire was alright.

"Fucking A'" Courfeyrac whistled. "He's awake?!"

"Ow!" Grantaire yelped, rubbing his shoulder where Courf had punched it a moment earlier.

"Why didn't you say anything?!" Courfeyrac continued to shout as he straddled his friend's huddled form.

"Oy! Back off a bit." Joly interjected, commanding Grantaire to follow his finger.

The chaos continued until a light knocking called attention to the front of the flat. Everyone paused until Feuilly's deep voice could be heard through the door. "Open up you tossers!"

Bahorel unbolted the half dozen locks and stepped aside as a slightly inebriated Feuilly stumbled in toting a paper bag full of what everyone assumed was alcohol. Combeferre followed his roommate with packages of crisps and biscuits.

"Bless you!" Bahorel cried squeezing his friend in a customary headlock.

Even Courfeyrac leapt off of Grantaire and pawed through the loot like an excited puppy. Combeferre cracked a smile and helped Eponine distribute tumblers of cheap wine. In her own cup, she poured a bit of apple juice and lime flavored seltzer. She fixed Grantaire the same concoction and settled in next to her brother on the sagging couch.

The bubbles popped and fizzed under their noses as their friends carried on the usual shenanigans. Before long, Jehan had found 'Finding Nemo" using Courfeyrac's Netflix login. Bahorel nearly burned the flat down for the second time that day attempting to make popcorn. Musichetta had both of her boys laying at her feet while she painted Eponine's toenails with a mint green polish borrowed from Jehan. Combeferre moderated a 'discussion' between his flat mate and Bahorel about Poland.

Grantaire absently picked at the skin on his thumb until Eponine covered his hands with hers. She traced his veins and tightened her grip whenever his muscles tensed in panicked memory.

"Rise and shine!" Eponine chirped..

"Fuck. You." Bahorel yelled with his face firmed planted in the carpet.

"No thanks sweetheart" She sang, smacking the coffee pot in to place as the grounds brewed.

"Ughhhh" Joly moaned yanking one of Musichetta's legs over his ear to block out the chatter.

"AND ALL THAT JAZZZZZZZ"

"Who the hell is SO LOUD?" Combeferre groaned rubbing his face.

"Chicago?" Jehan asked sleepily. He began humming along with the show tune.

"Oh God." Bossuet moaned. "Toilet. Toilet" With every step the urgency of the situation escalated.

"Courfeyrac. He likes to pretend every shower is a West End performance." Eponine rolled her eyes and lined mugs along their sad excuse for a countertop. She grinned sadistically and slammed the last few just to see the Amis wince and frown.

"Courf! Open the damn door." Bossuet argued weakly, slapping the door with an open palm.

"Yeah. He's looking rather green." 'Chetta agreed, her voice rising to operatic standards.

"Whoever interrupted my solo" Courfeyrac started, steam enveloping his body as Bossuet rushed passed him.

"He's having a good morn'" He added cheekily, watching Bossuet fall to his knees in front of the porcelain throne.

Courfeyrac leaned forward and shook out his sopping hair like a fucking dog and absently scratched his groin.

Everyone noticed at once. Reactions varied, but all included terminating visual contact with the theatre major.

"MY EYES" Joly screamed. While Musichetta snuck a hurried glance before pressing her boyfriend's head to her chest in comfort.

Grantaire sighed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Blinking, he found himself with a front row view of Courfeyrac, in all of his naked glory. He nuzzled the sofa with his face and went back to feigning sleep.

Combeferre merely shook his head and pulled on a jumper before going to the kitchen.

"PUT THAT FUCKING THING AWAY." Eponine howled and raced towards Courfeyrac with a dishtowel. "THERE IS A CHILD HERE."

"Do I have to?" He whined, unperturbed as the fabric nipped at his skin. "Jehan likes it! Ow!"

Jehan's whole frame reddened from the tips of his ears to his sockless feet as his lover stretched out his arms and thrust his hips forward prior to letting out a barbaric yawp.

"Pants are required mon ami." A new voice chuckled.

"Marius." Combeferre choked out. He adjusted his glasses as if to prove that his appearance wasn't a hangover related mirage.

"Pontmercy!" Courfeyrac shouted. Ducking under Eponine's improvised towel whip, he sprinted towards his friend.

"Whoa!" A blonde squealed, screwing her eyes shut. "Pants before hugging Courf. You know the rule."

"Cosette!" Jehan leapt to his feet. Turning around he found his voice and addressed his boyfriend. "Pants. Now. No excuses." With a quick jaunty slap on the rear, Courfeyrac dragged his feet towards the now vacant loo.

At some point during this exchange Bossuet had rejoined 'Chetta and Joly, who were now doting over him in their signature ways.

The Amis welcomed the couple back to the fold in typical tradition. Bahorel tackles him with all the restraint of a toddler, while Eponine embraces Cosette and Jehan begins writing on her arm.

Grantaire almost lets himself smile. Almost. Before he is chided by an internal voice. Icy words twist his organs in a vice-like grip.

"Grantaire." Marius' freckled face swims in to focus.

"Marius, ah." He fumbles for words.

Although he'd never admit it, Grantaire is grateful for a boxer wearing Courfeyrac to loudly announce his return.

A couple of Amis laughed, while Combeferre takes Marius aside. Eponine and Cosette make their way over to where Jehan has coaxed R in to a cup of tea.

The sun's intrusion through the common room windows suggests the time to be about 7:00 AM. Courfeyrac is the first to notice this and inadvertently sends the Amis in to a panic with the announcement.

Grantaire and Combeferre exchanged a look before Courfeyrac shoved Grantaire towards the bathroom.

"A bit of product wouldn't kill ya!" He calls shrilly. "Ep! Got any clean clothes?"

R's middle finger answered his remark.

"If you can navigate the minefield, check Gavroche's room." Eponine shook a butter knife plastered in butter in his general direction, narrowly missing Cosette's blonde mane.

"Breakfast!" Combeferre announced handing off a plate of pancakes to Eponine.

"Come and get it, Gav grab the cranberry juice 'Chetta brought." She directed.

Several miniature disasters later the group was fed, watered and in various stages of dressing.

Combeferre held a notebook and chewed on a pen cap.

"Whatcha working on?" Eponine asked, holding a brush to Gavroche's hair. "The more you wiggle, the more it'll hurt." She warned the younger Thenardiar.

"Carpooling." He answered simply, scribbling out a name.

"Hmm." She frowned, looking over the guide's shoulder. "Don't put Bahorel and Feuilly together. Marius is driving?!"

"Yes?" Raising an eyebrow he turned to look at her.

She snorted and released Gavroche. "That boy couldn't navigate his way out of this flat unattended. Plus he's been abroad for the past couple of months, traffic's changed yeah?"

Combeferre nodded, making adjustments to the list. "You are certainly correct. Want to ride with me and Courf?"

"Well, if Courf will be there at least I can count on good tunes." She teased, ruffling his hair.

"The ONE time I played Sigur Ros for you Ep…" He stuck his tongue out at her back before addressing the group.

"Hey! Everybody listen up!" He tried to raise his voice, but no one even hesitated.

An ear-splitting whistle stunned the group in to a brief silence. Eponine winked at Gav and motioned for Combeferre to continue.

"Um…thanks Gav. So, here's how we are getting to the hospital: listen for your names…"

One tantrum, four travel mugs of coffee, and precisely 23 minutes later, the Amis were sorted in to the proper vehicles and en route.

Combeferre led the way with Eponine, Grantaire and Courfeyrac. The latter of whom was sitting with his arms folded across his chest like a petulant child.

"'Ponine. You can't call shotgun until you SEE the car."

"20 / 20 vision baby." She smacked her gum loudly and wiggled in her seat.

They bickered amicably until he pulled in to a space reasonably distanced from the trauma center. All four persons exited Combeferre's clunker.

The whine of mental scraping metal caused Courfeyrac to groan.

"Who allowed Bossuet to drive?!" Eponine stifled a laugh and saw a similar expression mirrored on 'Chetta's face.

"I thought Joly was." Combeferre explained, tight lipped.

"Apparently not." She sighed, pulling Gav out of the backseat.

An embarrassed Bossuet stammered that he would repaint what he'd managed to scrap off of his mate's car, while Joly emerged from the passenger's seat looking shaken.

Musichetta crawled out after the little boy, and immediately waved to Feuilly.

Bahorel and Feuilly argued as they walked to join the others and nearly dwarfed the poet who was sandwiched between them twirling his car keys.

"Told you he should've taken a right at Emmett's."

"And what about the traffic on 5th?" Feuilly countered.

Jehan raised his hands in peace and squeaked out the suggestion for a truce. Courfeyrac used the opportunity to extract Jehan from the arguing men while Combeferre negotiated a brief mediation session.

"Monsieurs!" Fantine adjusted the stethoscope around her neck and hurried around the side of the nurses' station.

"Fantine." Combeferre reached for her hand.

"You caught me just in time. I'm off the clock in a couple minutes." She smiled amicably.

"Thank you." Grantaire supplied, his face flushing.

"How is he today?" The guide interrupted. "Is he breathing on his own?"

The nurse nodded. "Yes. Dr. Valjean extubated him about an hour ago. He is maintaining adequate oxygenation levels on minimal N/G flow. He is still heavily medicated for pain management, but he is alert and can receive visitors."

Grantaire found his voice. "Can we both go in?"

"Yes." She hesitated. "If anyone walks in, say that Fantine got clearance from Dr. Valjean alright?"

"Thank you." Combeferre leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Grantaire echoed his friend's sentiment and practically dove for the door she had led them to.

"Enjolras…Monsieur. You have visitors. Enjolras."

The melodic tones cut through the fog and Enjolras found himself swimming through the stupor. Tired. He was so tired. How could his eyelids be this heavy?

"He actually prefers Enjy." A familiar voice snickered.

With a burst of energy, he broke the surface and opened his mouth. "Hgdn. N-n-not true."

Blinking slowly, Grantaire's face came in to focus. He felt a hand grasp his fingers and shifted his gaze to find Combeferre.

"My friend." The guide swept his hand under his glasses and took a shaky breath. Enjolras tried to manipulate the muscles in his fingers, but couldn't tell if he was able to squeeze his friend's hand.

Words were too hard to form. Keeping his eyes open remained a monumental task.

Grantaire said nothing. He watched the interaction between the old friends. He could barely breath. His entire body was vibrating. His boyfriend was alive. Broken and bruised, but alive. The prick had answered his cheeky remark.

He had never been able to bend and weave words together with the grace Enjolras could. Grantaire drew and painted. His work spoke tomes without a single word. Neither of their practiced mediums could convey his emotions in this moment.

Which is why Grantaire touched Enjolras' forehead and cupped his cheek gently before pressing their lips together.

Before Grantaire pulled away, his lover had fallen asleep with the trace of a smile on his lips.


	19. Chapter 19 - Memory Tricks

**Chapter 19 – Memory Tricks**

Eponine felt a hand on her shoulder and stiffened.

"Coffee?"

"Mmm." She affirmed, nearly dunking her nose in the cup as she inhaled the fumes.

Cosette raised an eyebrow. "Is it possible you've become more addicted to this stuff since I left?"

"Maybe." She answered, pulling the cup closer to her chest.

Cosette pursed her lips and Eponine sighed. Her friend was using her psychological powers of deduction.

"What do you want to know?" Exasperated already, Eponine flopped in to a plastic chair in the ICU.

Her ami smiled coyly. "Let's start with an easy question…how are you handling being back here?"

"Ha. No sugarcoating huh?"

"Never." Cosette cocked her head and waited patiently.

"Strange." The word lay heavily in the space between them.

_Courfeyrac threw the car in to park so abruptly that even in her unconscious state Eponine jerked forward. They burst in to the A&E center. With Joly navigating the maze of corridors and rooms with deftness only a medical student could possess. Courfeyrac acted as a guard, protecting Grantaire with Eponine in his arms as they struggled to maintain pace with their neurotic friend. _

"_Please help! We need help." Joly's voice betrayed the panic that he had swallowed for the past hour. _

"_She's dying. Fucking dying." Courfeyrac's yell sent shudders throughout her trembling body. _

_Grantaire tightened his grip on her as she felt blood trickle down her legs. She tried to form words, but her mouth wouldn't cooperate. _

_Eponine managed to clutch Grantaire's shirt and hoist herself uptight. The weight of her words felt heavy in her throat. A spasm of nausea propelled her forward. _

_A mass of congealed blood splattered on Grantaire's neck and dripped down his chest. Eponine's eyes fluttered before she lapsed in to unconsciousness. _

Joly walked along the familiar corridor. His feet led him to an empty trauma bay. Ghosts of the past teased his senses and filled him with a cold dread. He put a hand on the wall to steady himself and forced a couple of deep breaths.

"_Son! What happened?" A man in scrubs snapped. _

"_I-I tried to stop the bleeding." Joly stammered, clapping a hand over his mouth as a tech stripped off her shorn clothing. _

_In the harsh fluorescent light, the damage became impossibly clear. _

_Her torso and chest were stamped with bruises in various stages of healing. Patches of red swollen skin marked where garish purple bruises would soon appear. Fingerprints clung to her neck like leeches. _

_He saw indentations of human teeth peek out from her bra before someone draped a towel over her chest. _

_Blood saturated the bandage Joly had improvised between her legs and for a moment he wavered in his resolve to stay in the trauma room. _ _ A glance through the rectangular pane on the door told him that his amis hadn't moved. Courfeyrac had an arm wrapped tightly around Grantaire's waist, tethering him. Grantaire stared at his hands, shaking as if he couldn't comprehend where Eponine had gone. _

_Eponine cried out and Joly forced open a space at the gurney. _

"_Eponine!" He touched a patch of skin on the non-swollen side of her face. _

_But she was lost in the pain. Stuck in a series of perpetual flashbacks. Reliving what had been done to her that night over and over. _

_She began to convulse and Joly's suspicion of a head injury was confirmed. _

"_Careful." Joly shouted, pushing a nurse's hand away from her chest. "Broken ribs" He added. _

_Supplies were exchanged over her body, medication was injected and Joly was eased onto a stool by a kind-faced nurse. _

"_You're here on Wednesday mornings aren't you?" She asked gently. Joly nodded, his eyes still on Eponine. _

"_Honey, we need to know. Do you suspect she was sexually assaulted?" _

_Despite all of the time he'd spent breaking down their walls and gaining their trust, he couldn't lie. _

_Not this time. _

_This time, she might be dying. _

_Fuck. Christ. She'd have to be alive in order to forgive this sin. Right? _

_Joly found himself nodding with tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. _

_Once the nurse passed on this information to the rest of the trauma team, a screen was erected and he was escorted from the trauma bay. _

_Courfeyrac and Grantaire enveloped him as he let his own walls crumble to join their rubble. _

"Love?" Bossuet smoothed a hand over Joly's clammy one that was still braced against the wall.

"Hey." He replied, hesitating before falling in to his boyfriend's open arms.

_Parts of her body pulsed with heat, while she was equally certain that other parts were freezing. Pain reigned supreme over everything. Wave after wave crashed over her, tugging her attention to her broken body. _

_Her eyes frantically scanned the room. People in scrubs rushed about, touching her, although she didn't register any of it. She noticed their mouths moving, but no sound reached her ears. _

_A black woman raised the head of the bed until Eponine could see beads of sweat on her brow. Her ribs protested the sudden movement and screamed in agony along with Eponine. _

_Desperately she gasped "R." The letter rolled of her tongue. The name, her brain yelled. She willed this nurse to understand. Over and over she called for him. Her lips formed the consonant long after her voice went hoarse. _

"Are you sure you want to stay?" Doctor Valjean asked.

Considering Enjolras had his hand in a vice-like grip, Grantaire nodded.

"Alright." The doctor teased the medical tape away from his patient's abdomen. Fantine reached over to extract the dingy post-op gauze.

Grantaire swallowed thickly as his eyes flicked over the glint of staples and industrial stitches.

"Why don't you focus on Enjolras?" Fantine suggested, noting Grantaire's expression.

"_Excuse me." A dark skinned nurse approached the trio in the hall. "Does R mean anything to any of you?" _

_Grantaire dug his nails in to his palms. "R is what she calls me. My name is Grantaire, R is her nickname…" _

_Relief washed over her face. "She's asking for you." The nurse gestured for Grantaire to follow her. _

_Grantaire's heart beat as loud as a drum. She was upright. And breathing. Yeah, breathing was good. His thoughts tumbled over each other. _

"_R." She sighed, allowing a nurse to gently push her back against the gurney. _

_Her voice acted like a catalyst and propelled him to action. In a heartbeat he attached himself to her side. He translated the medical speak in to simple assurances and honesty. _

_A team of nurses collected samples and offered their own words of encouragement as the rape kit exam progressed. But the world had shrunk to just the two of them. _

_He held her upright as a forensic camera flashed. Grantaire's heart twisted when she flinched in time with every click of the shutter. _

"_Hey. Hey Ep. Look at me." _

_Her body shook like an earthquake and she resembled a feral animal, ready to chew off her own limb in favor of freedom. _

"_We need her to stay still." The nurse he now knew as Monique murmured from the foot of the bed. _

"_Hey, I'm right here 'Ponine." He tried again. "Squeeze my hands. Remember our game? Squeeze as much as it fucking hurts. I'm not going anywhere. I swear."_

_Recognition flickered across her features and Grantaire took her hands in his own. _

_Monique resumed the exam, taking swabs and quietly narrating her actions. _

_With every entry, Eponine drew quick uneven breaths. Grantaire faithfully squeezed her hands and mimicked breathing techniques Joly had taught him. _

_After what seemed like hours, Monique stood. "You did a great job Eponine." _

"_It's over?" Grantaire asked. Exhaling for the first time since he entered the room. _

"_The exam is, yes. We collected all of the evidence required for the rape kit." The kind nurse brushed Eponine's hair off of her shoulder. "Eponine, I'm afraid you need stitches. The cuts are clean, but deep. Do you know what was used?" _

_Grantaire averted his gaze, but heard Eponine say "Knife." _

_He closed his eyes and clenched his hands in to fists as anger pulsed through his body. _

"How…does it…look?"

Grantaire blinked and Enjolras' face came in to focus. His mouth was curled in to a familiar frown.

"Sexy." Grantaire answered. "Did I ever tell you that I have a thing for guys with scars?"

"N-no." Enjolras smiled briefly before stifling a cough and wincing.

Fantine noted his movements with the practice of a veteran nurse, and raised the head of the bed to a semi-upright position.

"Ah, the better to see you with my dear." Grantaire teased, mentally hitting himself for such a tacky reference.

"Jehan…picked movies…again?"

"Yeah." He paused. "Enjolras I…"

Enjolras patted the bed. "Come here."

Grantaire unfolded his limbs and situated himself alongside his boyfriend.

Enjolras raised his un-casted arm to catch the tears tumbling down his lover's face.

"What's wrong?"

"Shit. What isn't wrong?"

"Always…a cynic."

"You almost died! Because of me. If I could just control myself. If I fucking left you alone you wouldn't be here, broken and in pain."

"Shh. Grantaire." He eyes closed without his consent.

The next words came out softer. "Not your fault…do you hear…me?"

"Yeah." Grantaire wriggled his body closer.

"Stay." He murmured, a moment away from sleep.

"Always Apollo." The lie fell from his lips as guilt choked his organs.

"'Ponine! 'Ponine, 'Ponine, 'Ponine, 'Ponine!"

Her eyes widened. Gavroche was standing in front of her. Well, bouncing actually. She hadn't seen her little brother this sugared up since they left the Thenardiars' shit-hole. Back when it had been fend for yourself, and Gavroche had become an accomplished pick pocket and thief of convenience shops.

"Hey Gav…" She said slowly. Carefully she scanned his frame for obvious bulges and wrappers.

"Okay buddy. Hands up and spread 'em. You know the drill."

He sighed, but assumed the position.

As she began patting him down TSA style, Courfeyrac and Jehan emerged from the lift. The poet paled and seemed to retreat in to his oversized jumper.

Courfeyrac, oblivious to his boyfriend's shame exclaimed "Gav! Where'd you get off to?"

His smile fell as he bore witness to the search. Eponine extracted no less than 8 candy bars, 3 bags of gummy sweets, and a pack of gum from his tiny frame.

"But he didn't even have a bag…how did he? I don't…" Courfeyrac sputtered.

Eponine shot him a glare. "Now Gav, you've got one chance to surrender anything I didn't find before I enlist your accomplice here to do a cavity search?" She pointed at Courfeyrac.

His eyes widened in fear. From the inner seam of his jeans, Gavroche produced 6 pixie sticks.

"Ma petit, what happened?" Jehan asked.

The boy shrugged. "Stress?"

Eponine nodded in agreement. "Old habit my dear." She piled the contraband in her little brother's arms and pushed him towards the couple. "Go on."

He shuffled his feet.

"I'msorryfortakingadvantageofyournonexistantstrees martskillsandsneakingbehindyourbackstogetthisdelic iouscandy." He finished in one breath.

"Merci, ma petit prince." Jehan smiled and elbowed his boyfriend who uttered a similar statement, but remained frozen in confusion.

As Eponine waited for the elderly hospital volunteer to total the loot Gavroche stole, the hair on the back of her neck prickled.

Cautiously she stole a glance behind her. All at once reality dimmed and she tumbled in to memory.

That face. His starched uniform and unreadable countenance.

"_Mademoiselle Thenardiar?"_

_Monique nodded "We're just wrapping up here." The nurse adjusted her patient's IV and added another blanket. _

"_I understand that you were assaulted tonight." _

_Grantaire stood. "We didn't ask for the police." His voice low and reminiscent of a growl. _

"_Look." The man ignored Grantaire. "My name is Detective Inspector Javert, and I was called here to take the statement of a young Mademoiselle who was brutally assaulted and raped." _

_Eponine flinched at his terminology. "I'm no Mademoiselle." _

"_Can't you just leave us alone!" Grantaire blurted, pacing the small space. _

_She absorbed his panic and began to tug at the wires and tubes that tethered her to the bed. _

"_I can help." Javert backed up a couple of steps and the pair visibly relaxed. "But only if you talk to me. _

_She managed to stand with difficulty. Grantaire gathered Joly's soiled comforter and her dilapidated trainers. _

_Soft dark circles burst before her eyes and her head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. _

"_Easy." The detective inspector supported her back and lifted her spindly legs. _

"'_Ponine." _

'Ponine? Why did he call her that? No. That's not right.

"Mademoiselle?" The volunteer with the smokers voice hacked.

"Eponine? 'Ponine?" Her brother's voice rose with anxiety.

"Sorry ma'am." She apologized, accepting the change and taking Gavroche's arm.

"What's going on 'Ponine?" Gav asked. "Ow. Not so tight."

Quickly she released him. Eponine dragged her little brother passed Javert, still lost in thought.


End file.
